Ashes and Embers
by dewdrop.juri
Summary: Takano Naomi was used to cleaning up after people's messes, but when she gets her ass dragged to a party night that takes a turn for the worse, fate throws her a lifeline in the form of a stranger with strange patchwork skin, blue eyes and a smirk that signals nothing but danger. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even if he was capable of burning her wings. (Dabi x OC)
1. Roponggi Rendezvous

The dull thrumming of the sounds emanating from the club gradually became clearer as soon as she stepped outside of the building.

 _Club Narcissus_ was emblazoned on the club's entrance, the name written in a fancy script as the lights blinked on and off. As rows of people made their way into the establishment, Takano Naomi wobbles in her steps, grimacing at the height of the heels she wore.

She grabs her phone from her purse, skimming the lockscreen for new messages from her friend. Ayane had texted her thirty minutes ago, asking Naomi to "haul her ass to Club Narcissus right this moment or else I'll throw myself off this building," which sounded like a threat, but Naomi had most likely surmised it was a drunk chat. She was used to cleaning up after her friend's drunken messes before.

Sighing, she places her phone back into her pocket, her fingers adjusting the hem of the ridiculously short dress she had borrowed from Ayane's stash of clothes. _Club Narcissus_ was a nightclub that catered to the more posh clientele of Tokyo, after all—from A-list celebrities to the children of politicians. Although rumour has it that the bar also served as a meeting place for shady business transactions within the _yakuza_ and the villains.

Whether the rumour about it being a hotspot for villains was real or not, the club had a dress code and though it was disagreeable on her part, Naomi had to dress up for the occasion, lest she was denied entry.

She fell in line with the rest of the club and spared a look at her wristwatch. It was past 11:30 in the evening, and if she can manage to haul Ayane back to their shared flat, she could still sneak in at least four hours of sleep in preparation for tomorrow's work. Just as she raises her wrist down, the person in front of her was already allowed entry into the club, making it her turn.

"ID please." The bouncer—a tall burly man with reptilian features, no doubt someone with a heteromorphic Quirk—grumbles, and in instinct, Naomi pulls out her workplace ID. The man takes it, glances at the document before moving his features to her.

Dressed in a strapless body-hugging silver dress that ends barely past her thighs and dark stiletto heels, Naomi offers a smile in a means to placate the situation. She had her black hair swept into an elegant up-do, had her make-up done with more effort than usual, and substituted her trusty glasses for a pair of grey contact lenses.

Huffing in approval, the bouncer hands her back her ID and opens the club's entrance for her. "Enjoy the night, Miss Takano."

Giving the subtlest of nods, Naomi steps into the party, only to flinch at the music blaring from the speakers. Coloured lights filled the establishment in varying degrees of green, blue, red, and purple. Squinting through the haze of colour and the notes of a sensual party beat, Naomi could make out a blur of faces and on the dance floor, a tangle of bodies as sweating figures began to grind against each other.

Glasses filled with dark liquor start being passed around, and drinks begin to overflow from the bar counter. A few people stayed seated in the couches and tables around the dance floor, talking in hushed voices and laughing at jokes.

Naomi makes her way through the crowd, murmuring apologies as she nudges against the crowd of tangled bodies. In the corner of her eye, she catches a couple making out in one corner of the room, and she had immediately averted her eyes away. Once past the dancefloor, she exhales a sigh of relief, before spotting the bar counter and taking a seat next to a ginger-haired girl.

The bartender was a polite-looking gentleman, who greets her with a business smile, asking for her order.

"Scotch, please." Naomi answers, returning his smile with a clipped one. "On the rocks."

As he nods and turns his back to make her drink, Naomi focused her senses, her eyes scanning the area for a petite girl with bleach-blonde hair cut in a bob. Ayane had styled her hair for numerous times for that month, and just the other day, she had shown up in the flat with a new hairstyle and new hair colour.

A clink on the bar counter returns Naomi's attention to the bartender as he slides her drink across her. She bows gratefully and takes a sip, cringing slightly as the drink registers in her system. She was never a fan of alcoholic drinks, but she had to blend in with the place. As she cradles her drink in her hands, she finally spots the person she was looking for.

Across from her, seated on one of the tables, Ayane was right into a group of people, next to a gaudy looking guy dressed in chic white Italian suit. Her friend was drunk enough—her normally pale face had a red flush splayed across her cheeks and she was laughing to a joke the guy had said. Naomi's eyes narrowed as the guy had his hands sneakily crawling up to the thighs of her friend.

Placing her unfinished drink and a couple of bills on the bar counter, Naomi makes her way to the group, her eyes narrowed and her fists clenching in restrained anger. As she walks up to the group, she plasters an excessively cheerful smile on her face.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt." Naomi speaks up, raising her voice over the loud volume of the music and drawing the attention of the group to her, Ayane included. "I'm here to take Ayane home."

"Nacchan, you're here!" Ayane slurs, picking herself off from the seat and flinging herself at Naomi in a sloppy hug. Naomi could still smell the alcohol stench on Ayane's breath. _God, it's barely past twelve and she's already this drunk?_

"A friend of yours, Ayane-chan?" This time, it was the guy next to Ayane who speaks up. Naomi directs her attention to him, only to regret it as the guy begins to run his eyes over her form and leering at her. _Bastard._

"Yess, yess!" Ayane slurs drunkenly, untangling herself from Naomi's grip and turning to face the group. "This is Takano Naomi, and she's my bestest, bestest friend evuhhhh!"

"Uhm, right." Naomi forces a chuckle out of her throat as she reaches out for her friend, her grip firm on Ayane's arm this time. "I think we should go."

"But you just came here!" Italian-suit guys comments, opening a bottle of brandy and pouring some of the liquid in a glass before extending it to Naomi. "You should have a drink with us, yeah?"

Warning sirens begin blaring in her head at the scenario. Naomi plasters a polite smile on her face this time. "Sorry, but I think I've already drank enough."

"Come on, Naomi-chan, one more drink wouldn't hurt, right?" He croons, this time reaching for Naomi's arm. Naomi narrows her eyes, catching his grip before it could touch her skin. Italian-suit guy blinks in surprise before he yelps in pain as Naomi grips his arm tight enough.

"No means no, bastard." Naomi snarls. "Don't think you can get away with taking advantage of my friend while she's drunk."

"You bitch—"The guy curses, raising his free hand to slap Naomi but she was quicker, stepping daintily to the side, making the guy lose his balance and face-plant to the floor. Laughter emanates from the group, and Italian-suit guy picks himself off from the floor, face red with rage.

"I think you've had enough to drink, don't you think?" Naomi remarks, smiling sweetly before turning her back away from the group. Huffing in satisfaction, Naomi grabs Ayane and drags her toward the exit of the club.

* * *

Outside of _Club Narcissus,_ Naomi hoisted Ayane's left arm over her shoulders as she assisted the blonde while they walked.

"And y'know Nacchan, that idiot Haruki dumped me for that loser of a-" Ayane drawls drunkenly, and Naomi sighs. Her friend was the sort that was talkative and emotional when drunk, ranting about how her exes were losers for dumping her.

"Yes, yes. Haruki is a jerk, I know." Naomi mutters under her breath, struggling under Ayane's weight as they headed towards the exit of the club district. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see sleeping salarymen on the corners of the street, cabaret girls picking up possible customers off the street and drunk men staggering on their feet as they tried to hail a cab home. She and Ayane blended in with the crowd perfectly.

"Why do you always choose to party in the really innermost parts of the district," Naomi mutters under her breath, cursing inwardly as the sight of the exit towards the taxi stops seemed to go on forever.

"Hng? Did ya say somethin', Nacchan?" Ayane replies drunkenly and Naomi only sighs in defeat.

"Come on, we need to get you home—"

"Hey ladies~ You seem free."

Naomi looks ahead, her senses on high alert as a group of men in expensive-looking suits block their way towards the entrance. Unlike the stuck-up brat from the club these men ooze dangerous vibes. Naomi darts her gaze to the matching tattoos on the men's arms.

 _Yakuza,_ She mulls in her head. _Oh, great._

The men crowd in on them and Naomi plasters a sweet smile on her face, urging herself to keep calm, despite the thundering pace of her heart in her chest.

"I'm sorry, we're on our way home now, actually." She croons, adjusting her grip on Ayane's body. _Damn it, Aya. You owe me big for this._ "Could you please move out of the way, kind sirs?"

The men share a glance between them, before the leader of the group affixes his gaze back to them. The sight of the salacious grin on his face made all the blood in Naomi's body run cold.

"Come on, you could spare a few minutes for some fun now, can't you?" He offers, his groupies nodding along and whistling. "We'll buy you a drink."

"We really can't, I'm sorry." By now, Naomi's palms were sweating and shaky, but she forced the nervousness down. "Please get out of our way."

It was a miracle her voice didn't waver.

Apparently, the men didn't like her reaction one bit. One minute they were merely standing across them, then next thing she knew, Naomi was being slammed against the wall in a hidden alley, a knife pressed against her throat.

"Y'know Missy…" The man starts, his breath fanning in her face as he spoke slowly. "I'm not used to being refused."

Naomi narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth. "Well, first time for everything, I suppose."

"Feisty bitch," The man states before drawing his knife away from her skin and motioning to his subordinates. "Strip her."

Naomi's eyes widened, her mouth opening into a scream, but it was only muffled as a pair of hands stuff her mouth with a piece of cloth. The men begin tugging off her clothes, their hands roaming around whatever patch of skin they could find and Naomi began to struggle against their grip but it was futile.

 _Stop!_ Her subconscious screamed, and she could feel tears dripping down her cheek as the men begin hiking her skirt up. _Someone….anyone….help…!_

* * *

" _You bastards are in the way."_

A new voice echoes in the vicinity. At the distraction, Naomi opens her eyes, blinking the tears away as a tall figure looms across them.

The men pause in their ministrations, taking in the profile of the newcomer. One man had the audacity to step near him.

"Hah? Who'd you think you are?" He drawls, rising on his tiptoes as he tries to appraise the newcomer. "Mind yer own business, son of a—"

A burst of blue fire erupt from nowhere, the flames geared towards the man. Yowling in pain, the man backs away from the newcomer, falling to the floor. As he thrashed on the concrete, the rest of his body catches on fire, and in a few minutes, he stills.

The rest of the group stills in their movements, stunned with the events that transpired. The trance broke when the newcomer quells the flame in his hands, and the rest of the gang members draw their knives and guns in anger.

"You fucker!" One yelled. "You'd pay for what you did to _aniki!"_

The rest of the gang members charged full force at the newcomer, leaving Naomi to herself in the corner. Transfixed to her spot, she could only watch as another burst of blue flame erupts and howls of pain only echoed from the gang members as they slowly burned to a crisp.

* * *

As the last member of the gang crumpled to the ground, Dabi turns his attention to the cowering girl in the corner.

He takes in her dishevelled appearance: her dark hair was in disarray and her body was practically almost exposed as her dress was almost pulled off from her due to the ministrations of the men from earlier. He takes a step towards her, and in response, she flinches back and crowds herself into the corner.

 _Like a deer in the headlights,_ he mulls in his head, but he merely casts her one disinterested look as he walks past her. _Not that it matters to me, anyway._

He yawns, shoving his hands into his pockets as he continues in his steps.

"Hey, you."

He pauses in his steps, tilting his head back to survey her form. She had stood up straighter, her arms wrapped around the upper part of her body as she looked at him straight in the eyes. A hesitant smile crawls on the corner of her lips.

"Thank you." She murmurs, angling her body forward in a bow. "For taking care of them."

 _Well, this is a first._ Dabi thoughts, blinking in confusion at the female bowing in front of him. Usually, people tend to run away from him after seeing his Quirk in action, including the fact that he had just practically incarcerated people in front of their very eyes.

"Don't take this the wrong way." He remarks, turning his back against her and resuming his pace as if nothing happened. "They were in the way and you just happened to be there."

* * *

As their saviour made his way out of the hidden alley, Naomi releases a breath of air from her mouth before sinking to her knees. The charred corpses of the men who tried to rape her littered in the corner and she raises her palms to her mouth, closing her eyes as she tried to process what happened to her.

People were just literally burned—murdered—right in front of her very eyes. She feels bile rise up to her throat, and in minutes, she heaves, vomiting into the nearest corner dumpster.

"Ayane…" She murmurs, rising to her feet as she steadies herself against the wall. "I have to get Ayane…"

Police sirens echo in the distance, and Naomi was brought back to reality as a police officer runs towards their corner of the street.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" He asks, stepping towards her in an attempt to assist. "We've received reports of a burst of blue flame around this area. Do you know anything about it?"

Naomi glances up at the police officer, her eyes blank and her mind hazy. His next words all came as white noise to her, and eventually his face, a blur. Within seconds, her mind succumbs to the nausea and then, darkness.

Before she faded into unconsciousness, the only thing Takano Naomi could remember was a flash of blue flame, a scarred face and sea-green eyes.

* * *

Author's note: I'm back from my hiatus (three cheers because my second semester has finally ended!) and I finally caught up with the anime and I just have to say that I'm literally thirsting over Dabi (ya feel me?!). The lack of adequate Dabi fanfics finally pushed me to write this and I hope I did justice to his character.

This story is a bit different compared to the fluffy fanfics I write most of the time, but well, I tried. Reviews are very much appreciated!


	2. Kindling for the Fire

When she first opened her eyes, bright lights and a blank, austere ceiling entered her vision.

Naomi blinks, adjusting her sight to the sudden invasion of bright light. She catches a whiff of antiseptic, covered hastily by a lavender scent diffuser. As she wakes, she could hear the faint buzz from the air conditioning unit, the muffled shuffle of footsteps and the steady beeping of a heart monitor.

 _A hospital?_ She mulls in her head. _How did I get here?_

Soon, the door to her room opens, revealing a petite brown-haired nurse decked in her whites. She entered the room looking tired as she approached Naomi's bed but as soon as she discovers Naomi's awake, the nurse becomes alert and does a backtrack towards the door.

Naomi could hear the faint "She's awake, sensei!" call from the nurse's lips, prompting a steady beat of running footsteps echoing in the vicinity and her doctor, Naomi presumes, enters her room in a jiffy. He immediately storms towards her bed, a professional smile in place.

"How are you feeling, Takano-san?" He asks, motioning subtly to his nurse to go prepare supplies. His touch was light on her skin, fingers pressed to Naomi's wrist to feel her pulse.

"I'm…a bit…dizzy." Naomi whispers, her voice utterly hoarse and her throat dry. Getting the cue, the doctor reaches for the glass of water on the bedside table and hands it to her. His fingers guide Naomi's hands gently as she swallows the drink down her throat, the water a soothing salve to her dry throat.

"How long was I out?" She whispers, voice back to normal as the doctor continues to check her vitals. He pauses in his movements and sits in front of her with a serious expression in his eyes.

"Two days," He declares, prompting surprise for Naomi. "You were knocked out cold when you arrived here."

Then it all comes back to her in a whirlwind of memories.

The club, the _yakuza_ gang, the unwanted touch of men on her skin—

Then a flash of blue flame, charred bodies, patchwork skin and sea-green eyes.

Naomi abruptly sits up, palms raised to her temples as the events of the previous night came back to her mind. Her arm catches on something and she hisses in pain, only to discover she was hooked to an IV drip.

"Ayane," Naomi begins, eyes wide with worry as she remembers her friend. "Where's Ayane?"

"Well now, let's stay calm for the moment Takano-san." The doctor placates, placing a steady hand on Naomi's arm. "Your friend is fine. In fact—"

"Nacchan!"

Thundering footsteps and a flash of green suddenly dives into Naomi's arms, the figure pushing the doctor aside. As she tried to grasp the world around her, Naomi comes face to face with the tear-streaked face of Hayase Ayane.

"I am so, so, sorry Nacchan!" Ayane sobs. "You were in danger because I was a drunk idiot!"

Naomi could only watch helplessly as Ayane sobbed her heart out, her face buried in the former's hospital gown, streaking the material with snot and tears. Naomi sighs, tapping Ayane's shoulder to dislodge her grip from her body.

The blonde does so, and Naomi chokes out a giggle at her Ayane's distraught appearance.

Her friend's usual prepped face was free of make-up today—her eyes were puffy and red from too much crying—and her neat bob was in disarray.

"You look horrible, Acchan," Naomi states, now attempting to fix her friend's hairstyle back in place with gentle strokes of her hands. "It's not like you."

"Shut up, I was hungover and losing sleep watching over you!" Ayane counters back, slapping Naomi's hand away playfully as she bawled her eyes out once more. "You didn't wake up for two days!"

Ayane returns back to hug Naomi full force, but the latter was prepared for it this time, blocking her friend's incoming hug attack with her arms, and squishing Ayane's cheeks.

"Quit it!" Naomi counters, grimacing as her hands catch Ayane's tears, "You're going to choke the life out of me at this rate!"

Ayane only laughs, which was a weird and funny combination as she tries to grin under her tears. Before it could escalate further, the doctor clears his throat, garnering the two's attention back to him.

"I need to check the rest of Takano-san's vitals," He begins, an amused smile on his features as he takes in the appearance of the two ladies in front of him. "Perhaps the emotional reunion can be scheduled later?"

"Oh, right!" Ayane sniffles, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her green sweater. She picks herself off from Naomi's bed and awkwardly steps aside so the doctor could attend to her friend. "Sorry, doc."

Naomi rolls her eyes playfully at Ayane as the doctor resumes checking the dark-haired girl's vitals. He presses a stethoscope to her chest to check her breathing, then finally nodding to himself as he notes her progress in her medical chart.

"Well, so far, you're stable." The doctor announces. "But we'll have you stay in a few more days for some check-ups to do before we finally discharge you."

Just as he finishes pencilling in the last detail, the nurse from earlier rushes back into the room, prompting everyone's attention towards her.

"Miwase-sensei," The nurse addresses the doctor, her eyes then darting towards Naomi's seated figure on the bed. "The police are here. They need to talk to Takano-san."

* * *

 _A strange blaze of blue flame was seen in Roponggi district two days ago. Witnesses have reported to have seen the blaze at around 12 midnight. Seven charred corpses of what appears to be members of the yakuza syndicate Seiryuu-kai were found on scene. Authorities are assuring the public that they are currently undergoing investigation_ —

Shigaraki abruptly switches the television off, before he turns to his seat to address the dark-haired man lounging on the couch.

"I told you to lay low for the moment," He hisses, his voice dripping with venom. "Care to explain what the actual fuck are you doing, Dabi?"

The patchwork scarred man rises his eyes lazily, gazing once at the television set then back to the seething Shigaraki across the bar counter.

"I don't have to report everything to you, Shigaraki Tomura." Dabi replies. "You are not my keeper."

"You fool!" Shigariki exclaims, his voice raising in volume slightly at his subordinate's indifference. "With all the press and police on high alert, what makes you think they won't find any leads on us?"

"Oh, but they won't." Dabi replies, stretching his legs on the entirety of the couch, yawning slightly as he settles in for a nap. "Don't worry, they won't be able to find anything worthwhile."

"Hoh?"Shigaraki taunts, relaxing a bit at his fellow villain's statements. "How can you be so sure?"

Dabi eases in to the comforts of the couch, his eyes closed. "I burned all possible witnesses."

Silence reigned in the Villain hideout after the scarred man's declaration. Shigaraki huffs in annoyance before turning to Kurogiri and asking for a drink.

As Dabi relaxes in his position, the frail-looking girl he spared from yesterday's incident pops into his mind.

" _Thank you for taking care of them."_

He huffs, turning to his side in a more comfortable position. Soon, he eases into slumber.

* * *

The cup of barley tea was warm when Naomi held it in her hands, but the atmosphere inside the room was cold.

Soon after the nurse informed her doctor about the arrival of the police, Ayane was asked to go out and two men in dark suits entered her room. One was a man with feline features, while the other one was more ordinary looking.

"Pleasure to meet you, Takano-san," The more ordinary man introduces himself, bowing stiffly. "My name is Naomasa Tsukauchi and we are from Tokyo Metropolitan."

"I am well aware, Officer." Naomi takes a sip of the drink in her cup, thankful for the small burst of warmth that flared in her system. As she places the cup back on top of her bedside table, she folds both of her hands in her lap, offering the officers a polite smile. "Please, take a seat. It's going to be hard on your legs, standing up for a long time."

"Very well," Tsukauchi straightens his posture and pulls out a chair, taking a seat next to the foot of Naomi's bed. His subordinate follows, opting to stand behind his commanding officer as Tsukauchi pulls out a small notepad and pen from the pockets of his suit.

"We just have some few questions for you," Tsukauchi starts, his eyes drilling into Naomi's grey ones. "It's about the Blue Haze incident you were involved in two days ago."

A cold shiver runs down Naomi's spine at the event. Automatically, her smile falls and her fists clench into the bed sheets, gripping it tightly. At her reaction, Tsukauchi softens a bit.

"I do understand you were the one who survived the incident," He starts. "I believe this may be hard for you but we will appreciate if you would cooperate with us, Takano-san."

Naomi looks up, her fear alleviating a bit at the reassuring look of the officer towards her. She takes a deep breath, eases her grip on the bed sheets and offers him a shaky smile.

"What do you want to know?"

Tsukauchi flips his notepad open to a blank page. "Everything that you can remember that night."

Naomi exhales softly, her hands returning to being daintily folded on her lap. "Very well, then. I'll start."

She tells him. She tells him about how she was just supposed to pick up her drunk friend from _Club Narcissus_ , how she had to carry and assist Ayane who was passed out cold, how she almost got raped (Her hands unknowingly clench back on the sheets again, but Tsukauchi gently assuaged her to continue.) and how she had met the man who burned all her assailants to the ground.

"And so, this man who burned your assailants and saved you," Tsukauchi asks once Naomi finishes her account of the incident. "How did he look like?"

Naomi tenses up. Her mind concocts up the image of the dark-haired man with the patchwork skin and his sea-green eyes. Then blue. Blue flame. Blue flame spreading towards the unruly men. Agonized calls for help as their bodies slowly became ash. The satisfied grin on the patchwork man's face. Blue. Blue flame as everything razes to the ground—

"Takano-san?"

Tsukauchi's voice brings her back to reality and then she realized that her body was shaking. Raising both her arms to hug herself, she swallows.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I…I can't remember clearly." She states, but her voice wavers. Tsukauchi purses his lips and nods grimly. He closes his notebook shut, tucks it back into his suit and stands up.

"That will be enough for today, Takano-san." Tsukauchi reassures. "You really helped us."

Naomi only nods in reply, her arms still wrapped around her body. Tsukauchi and his subordinate bow to her once again before walking out of the doorway.

Once the officers leave, Naomi closes her eyes shut, trying to calm her beating heart and willing herself to forget.

 _But she knows she cannot. She will never forget the man who razed 7 people to the ground._

* * *

"Sir, why do you look so troubled?"

Tsukauchi hums, his eyes focused on the notes he took earlier. His subordinate sidles to the driver seat next to him and starts the engine.

"There is something bothering me about this case," Tsukauchi mutters, his eyes trained to the road in front of him. His cat-headed subordinate, Sansa Tamakawa, lets his gaze drift to his superior once before focusing back on the road.

"We'll soon catch the culprit sir, don't lose faith." Sansa remarks, taking a right at the upcoming intersection before stopping at a red light.

"That woman, Takano Naomi…" Tsukauchi mutters. "What has made her this rattled?"

"I suppose we just have to wait until she becomes stable," Sansa replies, revving the engine back to life as soon as the traffic light switches to green. "We have to understand that she's only a victim in this case."

"Hmmm, I guess." Tsukauchi mumbles and lets his eyes drift towards the sidewalks. He sees the site of the Blue Haze incident from the other day. He sighs, and tries to focus. "Let's just hope we can see the end of this case safely."

* * *

Author's note: Wow, thank you so much for the overwhelming support for the first chapter, you guys! I wasn't really expecting it to have a lot of reviews since this is something I wrote on a whim and I was still anxious because Dabi is a difficult character to write for. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! It means a lot to me!

How was this chapter? I'd really love to hear your thoughts and opinions so if you could drop a review, it would be brilliant!

Also, I'm also doing an internship at the moment so the best I could do is update this fanfic at least once a week. I hope you understand! Have a wonderful day!


	3. Sparks that Ignite

As her alarm clock pealed noisily in the confines of her room, Naomi grunts awake.

Turning to face her bedside table, she blindly reaches out to silence the damn thing, groaning in annoyance as she fails to feel the damn thing. As she finally grabs ahold of the square-shaped clock, she presses the button with more force than necessary and breathes a sigh of relief as the noise dies down.

She returns back to the solace of her mattress, burying deep into the pile of blankets as she prepares to doze off once more—

" _Rise and shine, Nacchan!"_

Only to have the covers thrown off her body as the chipper voice of Ayane resounds in the room, erasing all traces of the peaceful tranquillity Naomi had savoured five seconds ago.

"Ugh," Naomi groans, turning to her side and grabbing a blanket to cover her face as she retorts back to her friend, voice muffled under the covers. "It's too damn early, Acchan. Quiet down."

"Uhm, I hate to break it to you Nacchan, but no can do." Ayane replies, striding over to the lump underneath the blankets and yanking the cloth off, making Naomi growl in contempt. The dark-haired girl forces herself to get up of bed, mustering a glare she directed at Ayane.

"Would it kill you to give me some peace and quiet for at least 5 minutes more?" Naomi remarks, voice dripping with venom at being awoken rudely. Ayane remains unfazed, humming to herself as she strides over the windows of Naomi's rooms, forcing the blinds open and forcing the sun's rays into the room.

" _Acchan!"_ Naomi whines, trying to grab another pillow to cover the bright assault on her eyes but Ayane was already dragging her out of bed.

"No, you don't need five minutes when you mean 30 and might I remind you that it's 8:00 in the morning already?" Ayane remarks coolly, dragging her friend towards the bathroom and handing her a bath towel. "You have approximately 15 minutes to get ready and not be told off for being late."

Ayane's words seems to knock some sense into the dark-haired girl as she startles herself awake, murmuring a plethora of curses under her breath. Yanking the door to her bathroom open, Ayane winces as the sound reverberates and the shuffle of Naomi's movements become hurried as she pries the clothes off her body at max speed.

" _Damn it, Acchan! You should've told me that first!"_

* * *

Hayase Ichijou was humming a leisurely tune as he slices the rolled _tamagoyaki_ and packing them into separate lunch boxes. Along with the eggs, the other compartments contained a variety of dishes: fried rice, _karaage_ and cherry tomatoes along with slices of cucumber. Satisfied with his work, the 45-year old man closes the lid of both containers before wrapping them in cloth and laying them across the counter.

Thundering footsteps from the wooden staircase brought his attention and soon enough, his daughter Ayane, and his niece, Naomi reappeared from the top floor. Ayane was decked in an olive-green jumpsuit, her blonde hair slicked back elegantly as she shoulders a tote bag while Naomi was in a pair of cut-off jeans and an apricot-colored tee, her dark hair in a fishtail braid, while she pushed up her glasses so that they rested just above the bridge of her nose.

"Good morning, girls!" The man chirped happily, to which both Ayane and Naomi returned with a similar greeting. "Breakfast?"

"No time, papa." Ayane replies, an apologetic look in her eyes as she swipes their lunch boxes off the kitchen counter, handing one to Naomi who stuffs it in her backpack. "We're late."

"Oh, well then take these instead," Ichijou remarks, handing two thermos bottles to the girls. Naomi swipes the right one and yanks it open, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed black tea.

"Oh my god, just what I needed!" Naomi gushes gratefully, placing the cap back to ensure the beverage stays warm. "Thanks, Uncle!"

As Ayane struggles with the straps of her heels, Naomi hops to the _genkan_ , bringing out her trusty pair of sneakers and tying the ends with practiced ease. The older man returns to the kitchen counter, stirring the ramen broth he was preparing prior to packing the girls' lunch boxes.

"Will you be having dinner here?" Ichijou asks once the girls settled in their shoes. Ayane shakes her head while Naomi nods.

"I have to go to a drinking party with my boss," Ayane remarks, earning a stern glare from her father at the remark. "But I won't get drunk! I promise!"

"Oh, you'd better be, young lady." Ichijou warns her, turning to motion to Naomi. "Don't expect that Naomi will always be there to clean up after you! You even dragged her to danger because you were intoxicated, Ayane."

"Uncle," Naomi intervenes, shouldering the straps of her backpack as she offers both father and daughter a placating smile. "I'm sure Acchan's learned her lesson by now."

The blonde-haired girl nods fervently, making her father sigh and turning to give Naomi an apologetic smile. Naomi gives him a thumbs-up before she and Ayane finally exit the house. With a beep from her keys, the girls board a black Sedan, Ayane taking the wheel while Naomi settles in the passenger seat.

"About that drinking party…" Naomi begins as she and Ayane drive out of the garage. "It's a group blind date again, isn't it?"

"Keep it a secret from dad, will you?" Ayane laughs awkwardly before she turns to her friend with an apologetic glance, just as the car rounded the intersection. "They needed one spare person and I can't really back out of this one?"

Naomi sighs, cranking the bottle of her thermos open and chugging down a good portion of her tea. As the caffeine registers in her system, she musters a glare at Ayane. "This better be the last one, okay?"

"I promise!" Ayane nods, clasping both her hands above her head, effectively taking them off the wheel. "You're the best, Nacchan!"

" _Acchan, you idiot! Keep your eyes on the damn road!"_

* * *

Ayane drops her off in the next ward after 5 minutes. Lowering the windows of the car, Ayane looks at her concernedly.

"Are you really sure you're okay to go back to work?" The blonde asked, prompting Naomi to roll her eyes as she shoulders the strap of her backpack.

"Yes, I'm all set to go back to work." Naomi mutters, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "We've been through this with Uncle so many times already. I'm already nearing the end of my contract here, I can't afford to use up the remaining days off I have."

"You sure? 100%?" Ayane remarks, and Naomi nods. "Absolutely sure. Now go. You don't want to have your boss nag at you again, do you?"

"I'm just worried Acchan geez," Ayane replies. "Well if you're that eager, then, I'll be off!"

Naomi waves goodbye as Ayane speeds away. As soon as the black car disappears from sight, the black-haired girl sighs, shouldering her pack as she weaves her way through the pack of people by the pedestrian crossing.

The ward she worked in was a busier place in comparison to the other parts of Tokyo. In particular, the area was the center of the support industry, hence the daily influx of work orders and visits from hero agencies all over the country. Tourists, although a rarity, were sometimes spotted, touring the facilities and having free demos of the support items showcased by the different designers.

Carefully making a right after crossing the other end of the street, Naomi picks up her pace and settles for a jog, weaving her way expertly through the crowds. She dodges a group of men struggling with crates of equipment and steps to the side to make way for an irate-looking saleswoman who was passionately arguing with someone on her phone.

She slips through an alley—a shortcut—and upon emerging from the other side, was greeted by rows of buildings along an intersectional road. Naomi makes a quick left after walking 10 paces, finally spotting the pastel yellow roof of Ryuugen Industries, her workplace.

It was an upstart support company, mainly in charge of supplying support items for small hero agencies in Tokyo. The founder, Ryuugen Tamashiro, was a man who had a passion for creating inventions and propelled innovations for support items in the industry.

Naomi had started working at this company for the last two years. Quirkless and basically a graduate from a vocational college centered on machinery and welding, she had been left out of the more well-known companies as she was from a no-name college. Ryuugen Industries was the only one to consider her, but she was only employed as a contractual worker for the time being.

Naomi sighs as she walks through the entrance of the facility, sliding her identification card for entry and walking past the security scanners. Once she cleared, she made her way to the locker room, yanking her own compartment open and pulling out the standard issue grey overalls from her backpack before stashing the pack inside her locker.

"Yo, Naomi!"

She turns to the voice who called her name, a relaxed smile on her features as it came from a tall, lanky, ginger-haired girl with freckles.

"Hey, Koyuki." Naomi replies back, stepping into her work clothes and zipping the front.

"You're finally back!" The ginger-haired girl squeals before she attacks Naomi into a hug, lifting her slightly and twirling with ease. "I missed you!"

Though her appearance might suggest otherwise, Koyuki was a Quirk user, her ability categorised as a simple power augmentation Quirk that allowed her to lift things five times her size so as long as she takes in an adequate amount of calcium for the day.

"Y-yeah, I've been gone for a while," Naomi stutters, taken aback by the sudden lift.  
"Uhm, you can put me down now."

"Whoops, sorry!" Koyuki realizes her excitement has gotten the better of her and she gently places Naomi back on the ground. "Are you really okay? I saw the news, it must be pretty horrible for you, right—"

" _Don't bombard her with questions right off the bat, Maeno."_

Koyuki winces as a clipboard was tapped against her forehead by a tall figure. Naomi looks up and bows in greeting.

"Morning, Asakura-san." Naomi addresses the newcomer. Asakura Chizuru was a dark-skinned woman with a heteremorphic Quirk, one that gave her panther-like features. She was more or less the one with the most experience and longest duration of stay in the facility and she was everyone else's big sister.

"You're all okay now, Takano?" She asks and Naomi nods. Chizuru's features soften before she pats Naomi on the head. "Don't push yourself now, okay? You can take another day-off. I know it'll take a while for the….mental and emotional stress…to subside."

Naomi's involvement in the Blue Haze incident wasn't made public, but Ayane had no choice but to inform her co-workers for the duration of Naomi's hospitalization. Chizuru, Koyuki and her boss, Ryuugen Tamashiro were the only ones to know of her situation at the workplace.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm all right and well rested now." Naomi reassures her _senpai_ , a smile on her features. "I'm ready to go back to work now, Asakura-san."

"Is that so," Asakura intones, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry, unconvinced at Naomi's words. The dark-haired girl plastered a smile on her face, hand reaching out to tap the factory manager's shoulders reassuringly.

"No worries, Asakura-san," Naomi begins, walking past the taller woman as she swiped a pair of working gloves and protective goggles from the shelf behind Asakura. "Today's production line is for the capture tape right?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Asakura regains her wits and glances at her clipboard, yellow eyes skimming the document for the production quota of the day. "Capture tape and some vehicle tune-ups from Normal's pro-hero agency."

"Oh, the hoverbikes, right?" Naomi queries, placing her glasses into the safety of her locker and securing the goggles over her eyes while slapping her work gloves on her hands. "Come to think of it, Normal-san mentioned something about the brakes and engines being in need of maintenance."

"Think you can handle it, Takano?" Asakura questions and Naomi grins in response, raising a thumbs-up at her superior.

"Well, leave it to me, Asakura-san." Naomi replies, before bowing and exiting the locker rooms. Koyuki shuffles worriedly next to Asakura.

"Will she really be alright, Manager?" She asks, and Asakura merely stares at the door where Naomi exited and sighs.

"Maybe this is her own way of coping, I guess." Asakura replies before she tucks her clipboard under her arm. "Just assist her for now, Maeno."

The ginger-haired girl raised her hand in a salute and straightens her posture. "Roger that, Manager!"

A small smile curls on the corners of Asakura's lips. "Well then, off to work we go."

* * *

Hours later, Naomi slides her working gloves off and frowns at the grime and grease splattered across her cheeks. Sighing, she twists the faucet tap open in the women's washroom, and begins to scrub the dirt off her skin.

As the water dribbles down the sink, she watches as it turns into murky brown as it went down the drain. Looking up, she glances at her face in the mirrors. Her skin was paler than usual, the bags under her eyes were worsening and her lips were chapped. Unlike her cousin Ayane who often took meticulous care in layering her face with make-up in the morning, Naomi was the exact opposite.

Give her an old PC CPU and she could dismantle it and set it up without wasting a breath. Give her an abundant amount of make-up products and she would just stare at it for hours. It was a miracle that Ayane convinced her to experiment with basic make-up looks.

The night at the club had been particularly troublesome for Naomi. When Ayane texted her that night, she had frantically pulled up and searched for an appropriate look for the club's dress code, but eventually gave up when it showed too many steps. She had experimented with bolder colors and applied more effort than usual to dress-up.

In her opinion, she didn't look bad at all. Heck, she looked passable enough to warrant a few stares thrown at her upon her entrance to _Club Narcissus_ , after all.

Then the more unsavoury moments of that night followed and Naomi stopped her line of thought. Sighing, she reaches for the folded towel she slung across her shoulders, only to stop midway.

Glancing at her hands, she now noticed that they were shaking slightly.

"You okay there, Naomi?"

Koyuki's voice jolts Naomi back into reality. The ginger-haired girl stares at her, puzzled, when the black-haired girl suddenly flinches in surprise upon her entry in the restroom.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Naomi replies, quickly wiping her hands off with the towel and hiding them behind her back before Koyuki could notice their shaking. "I, uh, was just concerned about the bags under my eyes that's all."

"Oh, is that so?" Koyuki replies, her tone chipper as usual as she takes her place to the next sink beside Naomi. "You might want to try out the Tranquil Concealer. It works wonders for the skin and it's organic, too!"

Naomi forces a smile on her face at Koyuki's suggestion. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks Koyuki."

Her gaze then shifts on Koyuki's dress. She had changed out of the work uniform and decked into a flowy lilac dress. Her hair was gathered in an elegant up-do and strappy heels rested at her feet. "Are you going on a date?"

"A _goukon,_ actually," Koyuki replies, touching up her eyeliner. "You should definitely come with us one of these nights, Naomi. You should get a man, too."

"Oh, it's not really in my interest now," Naomi replies, gathering up her things and self-conciously tugs at the hem of her t-shirt. "And I need to help out with the restaurant. Uncle's short-staffed and Acchan's working overtime, too."

"Oh that ramen shop," Koyuki hums, now reaching for a tube of mascara and applying it to her lower lashes. " _Menya Hayase,_ right?"

"Yep," Naomi replies, finally undoing her hair from its braid and fixing her glasses over her eyes. She runs a comb lightly through her unruly locks. She spares another glance at the dolled-up girl next to her. "Well, I better get going now. Have fun at the _goukon?"_

"Will do~" Koyuki chirps, breaking out from her make-up routine to flash Naomi a smile. "Take care on the way home, Naomi~"

Naomi gives a half-hearted wave and exits the bathroom. Sparing a glance at her jeans and her shirt, she grimaces slightly.

 _Why do I feel like I've lost?_

* * *

The meeting with the Alliance ran later than he thought.

Dabi scoffs into his glass of scotch as he watches Shigaraki exchange hushed arguments with Giran. Kurogiri was polishing empty glasses, but his gaze flitted towards the arguing pair in case it would turn for the worse. Toga and Twice were out, part-timing for a job Shigaraki told them to do.

"They're still at it?" Dabi asks, breaking the silence as Shigaraki continued arguing with the other villain.

"It appears so," The wraith remarks, pausing his cleaning in favour of refilling Dabi's glass once the scarred man emptied his fill. "It is a critical time for Shigaraki Tomura. He has somehow managed to smooth over the deals with the Precepts, so understand that he might be getting…impatient for results."

Dabi hums in reply and instead opts to swirl the liquor in his glass, the ice clinking against the surface softly.

With the fall of All Might and the imprisonment of One For All, the League of Villains have made their own alternative plans to take advantage of the loss of the Symbol of Peace. Shigaraki had somewhat achieved an unstable truce with the _yakuza,_ at the expense of loaning out their own people whilst the remainder of the Alliance were to wait for instructions.

 _What a load of bull,_ Dabi mulls in his head. He glances at the wall clock in the room, eyes squinting as he tries to make sense of the time. Kurogiri notices his movements and answers his unsp oken question,

"It's 9:00 in the evening, Dabi." The wraith offers. Dabi lets out an impatient huff, rising from his seat on the bar counter, leaving his glass of scotch untouched. Placing his hands inside his pockets, he walks past Shigaraki and Giran.

"And where the hell are you going now?" Shigaraki asks, his argument with Giran put on hold for the moment as soon as he sees the figure of the patchwork male make his way towards the back door. "Because if you're going to cause more trouble, I swear—"

"Calm down, Handman," Dabi quickly pipes in, cutting Shigaraki's tirade off mid-sentence. "I'm more or less a sitting duck around here, so I'll just go. I'll be back tomorrow night."

"Wait you idiot, you can't just waltz your way out of here," Shigaraki hisses. "If someone catches wind of you—"

"I'm perfectly capable of keeping my actions on the down low," Dabi hisses out, his voice hard with contempt. "You don't tell me what I have to do."

Before Shigaraki could argue, Dabi walks out of the door, descending the steps of the hideout's location and into the winding alleyways that would lead him home.

He exhales a breath, his gaze lifting to the night sky as he breathes in the evening air. He reaches for a crumpled flyer he stashed away in his pocket, an advert for a ramen restaurant just fifteen minutes away from his ward. It was an old one that he saved from years back—he kept it with him because he kept forgetting the damn number.

His steps bring him to a small payphone booth just ways out of the hide-out. Stepping inside the cramped space, he draws the flyer out and dials the phone number. Dabi waits for the phone to ring three times, until a booming, jolly voice greeted his ears:

" _Hello, this is Menya Hayase! How could I help you?"_

* * *

"I'm home."

Naomi voices out her greeting as soon as she approached her uncle at the shop counter. Hayase Ichijou pauses for a while in filling bowls with ramen broth as he beams at his niece.

"Oh, welcome home, Naomi!" He greets and Naomi skirts around to the side to let her uncle serve the bowls to a waiting customer seated on the counter stool.

Menya Hayase was full house yet again tonight: the tables were filled with her uncle's regular customers ranging from tired and hungry salesmen, to members of a local biker gang, and even groups of foreigners. The restaurant's location was located near the busy suburbs of the ward, and people flocked for her uncle's signature ramen that was served at a very budget-friendly cost.

"Can I do anything to help?" Naomi asks, raising her voice over the hubbub of the crowd. Her uncle holds up a hand before he brings out his delivery box and a notepad filled with delivery orders to Naomi.

"Can you take care of the deliveries for me, Naomi?" Ichijou requests, his hands returning back to preparing ingredients and serving guests. "Hayato's at the hospital with a broken leg and I can't really step out now."

Naomi inwardly cringes. Hayato was the latest delivery boy that her uncle had hired. He was a former yankee that was unemployed and her uncle had the compassion to hire him despite of the background he had. He had most likely gotten into a fight to protect some civilian in the streets and had apparently messed with the wrong guys, a recurring occurrence.

"No problem, Uncle." Naomi quips, quickly darting towards the backroom and drawing out the shop's jacket uniform and placing it over her t-shirt and circling back to the counter to get the notepad and the delivery box.

"Just take the motorbike in the back," Her uncle quips, feeling for the keys in the pockets of his pants and tossing it over to Naomi who deftly catches it in her right hand. "There's quite some distance to cover, though, will that be alright?"

"Yep, no worries." Naomi replies, plastering a reassuring smile on her face. "It's absolutely fine."

"So sorry to ask this of you when you just got off your work," Her uncle apologizes. "I'll make your favourite when you come back."

Naomi's eyes lit up at the promise of a warm bowl of seafood tantanmen ramen. With an almost eager nod, she waves goodbye to her uncle and exits through the backdoor.

Boarding her cargo into the back of the delivery bike, she fixes the helmet on her head and revs the motorcycle engine to life, zipping out of their residential area and into the night life of Tokyo.

* * *

"This one's the last one, huh."

Naomi takes a glance at the address jotted down in the notepad. Her other deliveries were smooth transactions for the evening, save for one snooty man who complained of having her meal delivered late.

Naomi had managed to solve the situation by negotiating to a discount for the meal's payment, but not before the man complained that women always overcomplicate the simplest of things. Her temper was beginning to flare at his sexist remarks and she couldn't help but feel a small twinge of victory when the ramen soup—still hot—sloshed on the man's hands, making him yowl in pain.

Back to the situation at hand, the address brought her to a dingy and shady apartment building well tucked into the inner most parts of the next ward over. The time for arrival took her 15 minutes, and as she dismounted the bike, her hand rests to the company-issued taser she stashed into the pocket of the jacket.

 _This place reeks a suspicious scent,_ She mulls over in her head, her eyes and ears alert for her surroundings, just in case something jumps from the shadows.

"Hmm, let's see, it was unit 354…" Naomi reads from the paper, grimacing that there was still a flight of stairs she needed to take. Though her delivery load significantly weighed less than earlier, her arms were aching.

Shrugging and mentally steeling herself, she made her way up, her grip tightening around the handle of the delivery box and the other on the taser in her pocket.

Once she finally reaches her intended floor and going down the room farthest from the hallway, she heaves a sigh of relief before setting the box on the ground. She frowns momentarily at the peeling paint on the door and the faint scent of cedar and pine in the air.

Steeling herself, she raps three times on the door's surface, a ready smile on her face as she calls out:

" _Menya Hayase delivery!"_

* * *

" _Menya Hayase delivery!"_

Dabi rises from his couch, muttering a tired "Finally," under his breath as he padded over to the entrance of his apartment. This was his old hide-out, a place where he occasionally drops by to crash or sleep when his presence isn't required at the League's headquarters.

The building was located in one of the innermost parts of the city, an old building that was frequented by broke student-artists or college students on a loan, and he had taken the opportunity as well, taking advantage of the location and the residents occupying the complex.

Gruffly, he unlatches the chain that held his door shut and glares at the delivery person in charge of his meal.

"What took you so long?" He hisses in annoyance at the figure standing outside the door, and suddenly pauses.

Familiar grey eyes met his own sea-green ones.

What the hell was the girl from the Blue Haze incident doing outside his apartment door?

* * *

 _It's him._

Naomi's blood runs cold inside her own body at the sight of the tall, scarred man. His eyes appeared to be just as surprised as she was, and her mind finally surfaces with a ton of questions.

 _Why is he here? Is this a sick joke? Oh wait maybe I got the address wrong?_

"Hey, you."

His voice shocks her back into reality, and she could feel her heartbeat accelerate at the look he was sending towards her way. He reaches out a hand, and for a moment Naomi's memories jogged back to the night where he razed people to the ground.

 _Blue. Blue flame. Charred bodies. The smell of burnt corpses—_

"That. That's my order right?" He asks, his voice low. Turns out, he pointed a finger to the box Naomi tightly gripped in her hands.

"Ah, y-yes." Naomi replies, straining to keep her voice steady. Cold sweat was running down her back as her hands shakily reached for the notepad. "One shio ramen and a side of gyoza and mapo tofu, extra spicy."

It was a miracle her voice didn't waver.

The man nods and Naomi almost shoves the bowls into his waiting hands. Her eyes drift to the metal rings binding uneven patches of his skin together, but she catches herself and does the calculation.

"That'll be 800 yen," Naomi replies. The man says nothing and Naomi's hands linger to the taser in her jacket. Ready to take it out if need be.

The scar-faced man brings out a couple of coins from his pocket and hands it over to her. Naomi accepts the payment, willing herself to stay calm.

"Do you need a receipt?" She queries, her hands reaching for her pen and the receipt pad.

"No need," He merely replies, taking the bowls with him. Naomi drops her head into a bow.

"Thankyouforyourpatronage," She exhales in one breath, her sentence gushing out of her mouth in a hurried tone. Picking up the box, she starts to make her way down the hallway, back to her motorcycle, back to the comforts of her home where it was safe—

"Hey."

The man calls out from his room, effectively halting Naomi's steps. Cautiously, she pivots her feet just so she could catch his eyes.

"Yes, sir?" She begins, uneasy at how this will turn out. _Is he going to burn me alive? I haven't even reported him to the police—_

"Just so you know," He starts, pinning his sea-green eyes at her. Was it just her, or did Naomi sense a glint of amusement in his features? "I don't burn every person I run into."

Once he spoke, he closes the door to his room, a cue that their interaction for tonight was over. Naomi doesn't waste time and walks briskly down the hallway, loading the empty box on the back of the motorcycle hurriedly and revving the engine to life.

Once she arrives back home 30 minutes later, the restaurant was filled with less people and Ichijou was placing her favourite ramen on the counter.

"Naomi! Thanks so much!" He beams, spreading his arms and beckoning her to come and eat. "Here's your favourite—"

He stops, finally taking note of her ashen complexion and his eyebrows furrow in worry. "You look pale, is there something wrong—"

"Nothing at all, Uncle." Naomi quickly interjects, a forced smile on her features. "I think…I'll eat that later. I…am getting tired."

Before her uncle could interject, Naomi bows to him and leaves the keys on the counter, shrugging her jacket off as she hurriedly went upstairs to her bedroom.

She plops on her mattress, closing her eyes and willing herself to forget and wishing for sleep to come.

That night, she dreams of blue fire.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hello! I am sorry for this delayed update. I just finished with my internship the other week and I had been struggling to write this in between my free days, but it was so busy and I just managed to finish this yesterday. I've been catching up with the manga and needless to say, these recent chapters have shone a spotlight on Dabi so I am so eager for Hori to finally reveal more of his character.

Thank you for all the follows, favorites and reviews on the previous chapters! I am happy that you gave this story a chance to read.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! Please do leave a review.

See you next update!


	4. An Old Flame

Naomi is losing sleep.

She lays in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling over-decorated with the glow-in-the-dark stars (Ayane's idea; something about 'aesthetics') and sighs before turning to her right side, facing the window.

Ever since her run-in with the patchwork man, her befuddled thoughts allow her no rest.

Outside, their neighbourhood was quiet. The hubbub and chatter of Uncle Ichijou's ramen restaurant simmers to a lull, and the only sound that echoed in the house was the clink and clatter of the metal pots and running water.

In the other bed, Ayane snores loudly.

She had arrived past midnight, hair dishevelled and her prim olive green pantsuit crinkled. She was driven over by a distressed brown-haired man, who hastily introduces himself as an intern for Ayane's advertising company. Uncle Ichijou thanks the man, taking his daughter's car keys as he and Naomi assisted the girl back to bed, and within minutes the blonde was out like a lamp.

The star ornaments glow soothingly, as if telling her to go and get some shut-eye and Naomi finds herself glaring back.

 _Ugh, this is no good,_ Naomi mulls over in her head. _I can't sleep._

Ayane's snoring grows louder, and this time Naomi does get up, a harsh sigh escaping her lips as she grabs her grey hoodie, puts it on and yanks the door to their room open. With quiet and brisk steps, she locates the door to the veranda and opens it with a gentle shove.

This was her own private place. Her uncle and Ayane only used this space for parties or gatherings with plenty of people, but Naomi keeps track of the veranda most of the time. There were two outdoor tables and chairs near the railways, overlooking Tokyo's towering buildings and the night traffic's blinking lights, but the rooftop garden was the one Naomi took pride in.

She had started this as a little project, just a way of sorting her own thoughts when she got bored. The trellis she constructed by herself, and the plants were either given to her by her uncle or Ayane. Somehow, this was a little green space in the midst of a concrete jungle.

The night breeze tousles her dark locks as it passes by, and the glow of the moonlight illuminates the vicinity with a soft glow. Naomi hugs the hoodie closer to her body as she makes her way to the railing, leaning casually as she surveys the city.

Though it was past midnight, Tokyo brings itself to life. Naomi closes her eyes, envisioning Shinjuku, Shibuya, and Roponggi, party centers to itself and its rowdy cabaret bars, sleazy host clubs and the never-ending trail of _izakaya_ pubs and karaoke places. The neon lights, drunken laughter, the sound of pouring alcohol, and then the smell of cigarette stubs.

And then, blue fire.

" _Just so you know, I don't burn every person I run into."_

The scarred man's words from her confrontation with him earlier that evening echoes in Naomi's mind. The girl opens her eyes, her gaze absent-mindedly gazing at the nightscape.

"A life for a life," She mutters in the air, a sardonic smile on her features. "Paying his debts, huh?"

He saved her life, she didn't tell his whereabouts to the police. She delivers his meal to his hide-out and as long as she keeps mum about the place, she won't be in trouble.

A sound and unspoken deal between the two of them.

Naomi scoffs to herself.

With a yawn, she glances at Tokyo's cityscape for one last time, before heading back inside the house and slipping back into the room.

As she plops herself back in the bed, she glances back at the glowing stars before closing her eyes. This time, sleep finally claims her.

* * *

When the next day arrives, Naomi rises to a still-darkened sky. Groaning, the black-haired girl rises from the bed and swipes her alarm clock off the bedside table: 5:30 in the morning.

Too early.

Ayane's snores echoed loudly in the room, and Naomi spares a glance at her. The blonde was still knocked-out dead from the group blind date from the previous evening, an eye-mask sheathed over her eyes as she huddled underneath the covers.

 _Look at her go,_ Naomi mulls in her head, a small smile twitching on the corners of her mouth. _Sleeping without a care in the world._

The dark-haired girl sighs before her gaze drifts to a framed photograph on her desk. It showed three people: a woman with dark-hair that fell to her waist and a scar on her face, a man with grey eyes and a calm posture and a little girl happily perched on his shoulders.

Naomi reaches out for the photograph, nostalgia blooming in her chest at the portrait. The little girl was her—she was 5 years old at that time—and the two older people were her parents.

The photo was taken on the day they took her out to see the port town. She had been persistently begging her mother to take her out to see the ocean at that time for her birthday, and her father acquiesced, bringing the two of them out on a picnic by the bay on his old motorcycle.

It was hard to think that they would pass away on an accident the day after.

Naomi's eyes linger on the smile on her father's face, and her mother's gentle gaze for a while. After a moment, Ayane's alarm peals loudly in the darkness, startling Naomi out of her wits.

Ayane's form rises on the bed, stretching her arms upwards and blindly reaching out to silence the alarm. With a yawn, she lifts the mask from her eyes and reached to switch the alarm off before turning on the bedside lamp.

Once her gaze refocused, the blonde blinks in surprise at Naomi's figure on her desk.

"Nacchan? You're awake?" Traces of sleep were still present in Ayane's voice, but the surprise was evident in the raising of her eyebrows and the widening of her eyes. "I have been graced by a miracle!"

"Oh, shut up, you." Naomi counters back. "Your snores were so obnoxiously loud that I couldn't sleep the night away."

"What lies," Ayane counters back, finally wrenching herself from her mattress and finding her bathroom towel, slinging the fabric over her shoulders as she approached the desk drawer Naomi was at. Naomi moves to the side to give her space.

"Ugh, eww." Ayane moans once she catches wind of her reflection in the mirror. "My eyebags are getting worse each day…"

"Well? How was the date?" Naomi quips, handing over the cat-ear turban into Ayane's waiting hands. "Were you able to get any guys?"

"It was a waste I tell you! A total waste!" Ayane counters back, her hands promptly slicking her hair back as she secures the headband over her hair. "Out of the four men that came, 2 were married! Can you believe it?"

"Hah, they're hopeless. The worst," Naomi replies, walking away from the dresser to her closet to pull out her clothes for the day. "What are they doing? Picking up girls when they have wives waiting at home."

"My point exactly!" Ayane remarks, swiping the bottle of cleanser from the box of toiletries and heading towards the bathroom. Naomi could hear the sound of the tap being opened and water running down the sink. "I wanted to ask, ' _What the hell are you doing here?'_ , you know? One of them even tried to get me to a hotel, the nerve!"

"Well, that's good news then," Naomi replies, laying out a black shirt and a pair of denim jeans. "You didn't get drunk as usual if you refused his propositions."

"There weren't even guys who were my type you know, and the girls were busy trying to get noticed so I had no one to talk to!" Ayane emerges from the bathroom, her face clean as she pats it dry with her towel.

Naomi thinks back on the events of the night, and the bumbling boy who drove Ayane home. "Ah, but the intern? He brought you home. Hikaru-kun, was it?"

"Oh? Really?" Ayane mulls, putting the towel away as she dabs moisturizer on her skin. "Hmm, not really my type."

The blonde turns to Naomi with an eager grin that the dark-haired girl knew too well.

"Next time go with me please! Also you need to get a guy." Ayane retorts, making Naomi roll her eyes in amusement.

"What, me?" Naomi chuckles at that. "If I had that free time and money to spend on drinks, I'd rather be paying my deposit for my new apartment."

At Naomi's statement, Ayane's movements stall as she pats her face, her eyes taking a more melancholic stance.

"Hey, are you really serious about leaving?" Ayane prompts, making Naomi pause in her movements. The black-haired girl sets aside her backpack, turning to face her cousin who was making a solemn expression on her face.

"We've talked about this a lot of times before, Acchan," Naomi starts, a clipped smile on her features as she addressed the brunette. "I can't keep on relying on you and Uncle forever—"

"But I don't mind it! Not at all!" Ayane's voice rises to a startling level, surprising Naomi. "We never thought of you as a burden at all Nacchan so why would you…"

She levels her gaze with Naomi's, her eyes brimming with unshed tears of frustration. _Why would you want to leave?_

A collective hush falls upon the room. Naomi decides to break it first, exhaling a soft sigh as she turns her back away from Ayane.

"Let's talk about this some other time, " Naomi opts to change the subject, resuming on shoving her things for work in her backpack and yanking her clothes off the bed to change into them inside the bathroom. "We'll be late for work."

* * *

Contrary to what she expected, Naomi gets off work early that day.

Quality checking for the shipped support items may be tedious work, but when you're assisted by a supervisor with eight-arms, everything just goes swifter. (She makes a mental note to treat Tako-senpai to a round of drinks at Menya Hayase).

Now dressed in her civilian clothes, the black-haired girl shoulders her pack and weaves her way through the crowds. At 4:00 in the afternoon, the ward was becoming congested with commuters, and she particularly didn't want to take the trains at the moment, so she opted to go for some window shopping.

While this part of the metropolis does specialize in Support Items, there were several retail and general merchandising stores that carried non-hero related products. There were clothing boutiques, thrift shops and even a special street that boasts of a wide-selection of food: from desserts, to main courses and even drinks.

Naomi hums a soft tune to herself as she passes by a high-end clothing boutique. Outside, a dress of velvet and orange taffeta outfitted with layers and layers of ruffles and gemstone decorations was on display. _Season's Originals,_ the sign had said, but Naomi scoffs at it.

 _Season's Originals, my ass._ She mulls in her head, raising an eyebrow at the outfit. _More like a Season's Catastrophe to me._

She leaves the boutique and turns on her heels, her eyes searching for her go-to family diner in this area, a small hole-in-the-wall eatery that served filling meals without the extra price. As if reading her thoughts, her stomach growls, making her fluster in embarrassment. She only had an onigiri and a bottle of green tea for lunch after all.

"Time to eat, time to eat," Naomi mutters under her breath as she picks up her pace, tapping her feet against the pavement impatiently once she pauses at the red light on the pedestrian lane. Just opposite was the street leading to the small alley that opened up to the diner's locations.

She casually glances at her phone, looking at any sign of emails or messages from either Ayane or Uncle Ichijou. The latter sent her a message that he'll be out for drinking with his buddies from the local Go club, while there was no sign of contact from Ayane.

Figures. She's still upset about this morning's conversation.

Sighing, Naomi places her phone back into her pocket, just in time to see the stoplight change colour. Before she takes one step into the lane, a familiar voice calls out her name from afar.

"Naomi?"

The dark-haired girl turns around, only to meet with a figure seated in a wheelchair, his steel blue eyes twinkling with warmth as he waves at her direction.

She recognized that smile from anywhere.

 _Iida Tensei._

* * *

"Well, get anything you want. This one's on me.'

While she was reeling from shock, Tensei had somehow persuaded her to come with him in a fancy upscale diner on the special food street. The waiters and the servers had been particularly accommodating with the former Pro-Hero's presence. Heck, there were even people asking for his autographs and pictures until the security disperses the curious crowd and ushers the two of them in a seat in the back of the diner, far from prying eyes.

Naomi fidgets in the plush seat, her fingers nervously lingering on the menu.

"Iida-san, you really didn't have to." Naomi remarks, eyes darting nervously around the room. In an effort to conceal her identity, she had undone her braid, letting her dark hair fall to her waist and arranging her bangs so they slightly covered her face.

Decked in a casual dark t-shirt, skinny jeans and her worn-out sneakers, Naomi looked out of place with the fancy chandeliers, the plush seating, and the mahogany furniture.

" _Iida-san?"_ Tensei repeats her address before he laughs, making Naomi's heart do a little flip-flop in her chest. "Come on, don't be so distant. Stop acting as if we didn't know each other."

"Okay, well." Naomi inhales a shaky breath before a small smile quirks the corner of her lips. "Tensei."

The gentle smile he sent her way after she said his name made her a little self-conscious, and she shyly tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Have you decided, dear guests?"

The posh waiter, an elderly gentleman smartly dressed in a pressed suit, appears by their table. Naomi breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for the distraction.

"I'll be having the Steamed King Crab with Periguex Sauce," Tensei rattles off his order expertly, and the waiter promptly writes down his order down on the small notepad before he turns to Naomi.

"And for you, young Miss?" The waiter asks, his eyes waiting expectantly behind the spectacles he wore. Naomi returns her gaze back to the menu, racking her brain for whatever minimal knowledge of western cuisine she had.

"Uhm, I think I'll be having the Cod with Botargo Pasta," She recites almost mechanically. She had no idea what it was, but she knows she could never go wrong with pasta. The waiter duly notes their order and promptly leaves, leaving the two of them alone again.

"How long has it been?" Tensei finally breaks the ice, bringing Naomi's attention back to the subject at hand. "We haven't seen each other since…"

"We broke up three years ago?" Naomi supplies helpfully, a polite smile on her features as she meets Tensei's gaze. He blinks, surprised, then laughs it off.

"Wow, it's been that long already, huh?" He mutters and Naomi reaches for the glass of water, resting her skin against the cool feeling of the glass.

The two had met three years ago at a group blind date Ayane had organized together with the help of a friend working at a hero agency. Naomi was 20 years old that time, and Tensei, 27, both of them dragged to fill in the gaps of the people who backed out at the last minute.

Needless to say, something between the two of them clicked and they started dating for a few months (discreetly, of course—the media will be vultures if word of Naomi's relationship with pro-hero Ingenium comes out), but coupled with a Pro-Hero's busy lifestyle and Naomi's work hours, the relationship didn't last long.

"So how have you been? Are you still with Ryuugen Industries?" Tensei asks, steering the conversation away and changing the subject. Naomi's features relax, and she eases in her seat.

"Yes, though I'm nearing my end of contract with them in the next week," She replies, her tone casual and light. "And after that, it's job-hunting for me again."

"How about you? I've heard about…" She trails off for a moment, her eyes drifting to the state of Tensei's legs and a pang of hurt twinges at her heart. "…the Hero Killer incident."

"Oh, that…" Tensei's tone appears sombre and he flinches for the slightest moment. "Well, just as you can see, I can no longer use my legs."

Naomi unknowingly clenches her palm into a fist, her fingernails digging into the skin.

"But I still work with my agency," Tensei remarks, plastering a smile on his face and the cheer in his voice back. "I could still help the guys even if I'll just be by at standby on the office."

Naomi hesitantly returns the smile. Tensei was Tensei after all. He could still find a way to help out the public even though he was like that now. Someone who isn't willing to give up easily.

The conversation steers to the more mundane things. Naomi mentions having seen his little brother, Tenya, on television during the sports fest and Tensei sits up a bit straighter, blabbering about how proud he is of his sibling, the light in his eyes evaporating any trace of sadness in his gaze that he displayed earlier.

He then asks her about her recent projects and it was her turn to talk about how she intends to improve the Hoverbike engines, how it would soon be the future of hero work and how it would be of great help in navigating through more inaccessible locations.

She misses the fond look Tensei sends her way as she rattles off on engine properties and alternative yet sustainable fuel sources for the machine.

When the food arrives, their conversation comes to a halt but it continued during the course of the meal. Time soon drifts by and Tensei's picking up the check (despite the insistence of Naomi in splitting the bill). They head out of the diner, but not before Tensei signs a small boy's paper, and Naomi's walking with him by the sidewalk.

"Do you need me to take you somewhere?" Naomi asks, walking beside Tensei. He maneuvers his wheelchair with ease, no doubt a model generated to make the occupant navigate on their own. Tensei struggles a bit with turning, until Naomi offers a hand and pushes his wheelchair to his preferred angle.

"Thanks," Tensei mutters under his breath. "Actually, I'm waiting for someone to pick me up."

"Pick you up?" Naomi arches an eyebrow until the gears in her mind clicked. "Ah, your sidekicks from your agency."

"Yep," Tensei agrees, taking a look at the wristwatch resting on his right wrist. "They'll be here any minute."

" _Tensei-san!"_

Naomi turns her head, only to see a young man waving from the distance. Tensei raises his arm to confirm his visual before he focuses his attention back to Naomi.

"It was nice seeing you again, Naomi." Tensei remarks, a small smile on his features as he addressed the female beside him. He raises a hand, to which Naomi takes, gripping it tightly and shaking it.

"Same here, Tensei." She replies, a smile on her face. She squeezes his hand gently for a moment before letting go. "Well, I need to go now. I need to tend to the shop."

"If you're ever gonna drop by the factory, just come." She adds as an afterthought, eyes scrutinizing the wheelchair Tensei sat on. "I'll provide you a better wheelchair. Better tech, much smoother navigating."

Tensei blinks before he laughs. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind."

Naomi waves him goodbye, flashing him one last smile before she crosses the pedestrian lane to the street opposite where Tensei was towards her train station.

Later on, when his subordinate catches up, he would follow Tensei's gaze, staring intently at the petite figure of a woman with long dark hair.

"Who's she, Tensei-san?" His subordinate would ask, and Tensei would only close his eyes, a wistful smile on his face.

"Someone I once cared immensely about." Tensei replies, before turning his wheels and proceeding to the direction where his subordinate came from, ignoring the blubbering questions that spew from the young man's lips.

* * *

"I'm back…"

Naomi slides the door of the restaurant open. Uncle Ichijou was nowhere to be found, probably still drinking; Ayane's car hasn't pulled up on the garage so she was probably on overtime duty; and the part-timer, a guy with a built physique named Jun was preparing ramen noodles.

Jun's been her Uncle's trusty kitchen aide. His bleached hair is pushed back by a red bandana, revealing his old scars from previous brawls he got into when he was with the gang.

Uncle Ichijou picked him up from the street five years ago. Apparently, Jun had decided back then to cut off all connections with the gang he got into in high school, resulting in the members pummelling him to the ground until he could no longer stand up. Uncle Ichijou patched him up, gave him a bowl of hot ramen and then offered him a place to stay and a job he could make a living off.

With his shirt sleeves rolled up, he expertly scoops the noodles out of the boiling pot, shakes it twice to thoroughly drain the water and plop it inside three bowls. His hazel eyes found Naomi's gaze, and he bows.

"Osu, Naomi-chan." He greets, to which Naomi returns with the briefest of nods and a smile before she sprints to her room to plop her things on the floor, returning back downstairs almost immediately and grabbing an extra apron.

"Jun-nii, I'll lend a hand," Naomi remarks, her hands dutifully pulling her hair into a simple braid before twisting it up and securing it into a bun.

"Aye, appreciate it." Jun replies, stepping into the side to make some space for the younger girl. Naomi joins his side, taking a knife from its holder and deftly cutting spring onion stalks.

Tonight was a slow night for Menya Hayase.

The only customers that were in the shop were three college students tapping at their phone away, and a tired-looking salary man swishing his noodles around with his chopsticks.

Naomi glances at the wall clock inside the store. 8:00 in the evening. Normally, this would be peak hours, but without her uncle around to bolster the place, few people came in.

Not that she particularly minded. The staff could use a few nights of peace and quiet.

Next to her, Jun was already pouring ramen broth into the noodles, placing cuts of _chashu,_ one _ajitama_ , sliced into halves, a small sheet of _nori,_ and two pieces of _kamaboko._ He passes the bowl to Naomi, who promptly sprinkles spring onion as a final relish.

They do the same process to the two bowls, and Naomi loads it on a tray, bringing it to the waiting group of college students who immediately start digging in.

When she goes back at the counter, Jun was placing the cooking utensils in the sink, running the faucet to start cleaning up.

"Looks like we'll have to close early tonight." Jun mutters and Naomi hums in agreement, joining his side to assist in washing the dishes.

Soon, the salary man leaves his payment on the table, and the three students follow soon after. Jun packs up his things and finally unwounds the bandana on his head. As he retrieves his bag and his motorcycle helmet from the lockers, he turns one concerned gaze to Naomi.

"Will you be alright on your own, Naomi-chan?" He asks. "I mean, I could keep you company for a while if you want."

"It's fine, Jun-nii." Naomi nods, giving him a thumbs-up to reassure him. "Besides, you still need to look after Haruka-nee right? Since she's pregnant."

At the reminder, Jun sighs. He walks up to Naomi and ruffles her hair, much to the chagrin of the latter.

"If you insist, then." Jun replies, sending her a brief smile before he buckles his helmet. "Stay out of trouble, kiddo."

"Will do~" Naomi chirps in a sing-song voice, and as Jun revs the motorcycle engine to life, Naomi waves goodbye.

Once the outline of the man disappears from her sight, Naomi drops her arm and exhales a breath, turning around and stretching her arms.

"Time to close up, then—"

" _Yo, delivery girl."_

Naomi freezes in her tracks at the sound of the familiar drawl. Slowly, she turns back round again, staring face to face with a familiar patchwork face and his goddamn sea-green eyes.

 _No way, right?_

He holds up the restaurant flyer with one hand, a small grin on his lips as he addressed her.

"You're still open, right?"

* * *

Dabi watches in amusement as he watched the girl skitter to and fro in the kitchen as he sat across the counter.

" _I-if you're okay with what I can make,"_ she had said, " _Then come on in."_

He rests his cheek on his palm, watching as she deftly chops up some meat, some garlic and some spring onions, before gathering them and placing them in dumpling wrapper. Halfway through the first batch, she pauses in her movements, her grey eyes directed at him.

"Uh, can you stop that?" She asks, her voice tinged with slight irritation. Dabi blinks.

"Stop what?" He asks, and she sighs, resuming her task with the dumplings as she finally finishes a dozen and puts it aside.

"Staring at me while I work," the girl replies, her back turning against him so she could run her hands down the sink before she grabs a pot which she fills with water. "It's… unnerving."

"Well then, any suggestions on what I should do then?" Dabi remarks, a subtle smirk on his features appearing when he voices his next thought, "Maybe I could burn this place down?"

That successfully catches her attention. The girl places the pot atop the stove and fixes him with an icy glare. Dabi sighs, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I was just kidding," He replies, "Like I told you, I don't burn anything or anyone that comes my way."

The girl's features relax for a moment, before she fumbles with a drawer and places a remote control in front of him.

"Go and watch TV then," she remarks, returning to season and place the dumplings in the boiling water. "It'll stave off your boredom for a bit."

"Not interested," He quips, making the girl exhale another irritated sigh before she eventually gives up and returns to her cooking.

"Then do whatever you want."

Dabi returns back to observing her movements. Now that he had taken a closer look at her, he finds that she's tall, taller than most women, but still a bit shorter than him. She's more on the lankier side, and there were several scars that marred her pale hands. Her dark hair was bunched up in a bun—much like the first time they met each other—and several stray strands slip out of the hairstyle, no matter how much she tries to smooth it back in place.

He halts his staring when a bowl of steaming dumpling soup is placed in front of him, along with a bowl of rice and a pair of wooden chopsticks. He eyes the meal carefully, making the girl twitch anxiously in front of him.

"It's not poisoned," She remarks, gesturing to the bowl she set in front of him. "In case you were wondering."

"Then take a bite first," Dabi replies, his sea-green eyes glinting with amusement as he stared at the girl. "To make sure it's not poisoned, after all."

The girl stares at him blankly, before she sighs resignedly, picking up a soup spoon and dishing out a piece from the cooking pot. She blows on the soup to cool it down and takes a bite out of the dumpling, chewing thoughtfully before she swallows it down.

"Satisfied now?" She asks him and Dabi merely shrugs, before finally partaking in the meal she had prepared. The girl gauges his next movements, eyeing him warily—trying not to catch his attention, but she was failing miserably—as he continues to down the soup.

He says nothing and continues the rest of the meal in silence.

* * *

"You look like you want to ask me something."

Naomi stalls her movements, hands pausing in scrubbing the pots clean when the man's voice echoed in the shop.

The bowl of dumpling soup was emptied, and he seemed content with her cooking, now downing a glass of tea.

She pauses in her washing, drying her hands as she leans behind the sink, arms crossed protectively across her chest as she meets his curious gaze.

 _Oh, I have a lot._ She mulls in her head. _How did you find this place? Why are we always meeting? Why the heck did I have to get entangled with you?_

"Your name," Naomi blurts out, despite all the questions currently occupying her mind. "I didn't catch your name,"

The man rises from his seat, placing the empty glass of tea on top of the counter. He falls silent for a moment, and a small smile (smirk?) lifts the corners of his lips as he pins his gaze to hers.

"For now, just call me Dabi." He says, turning his back to her as he heads for the exit of the shop. He throws her a sideways glance over his shoulder. "See you around, Delivery Girl."

Before Naomi could say a word, he steps out into the street, shutting the restaurant's door behind him, disappearing into the night.

 _Dabi._ Naomi repeats his name to herself, testing out how the syllables rolled off her tongue. _Dabi._

"What the heck," She mutters to herself, a small smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "What a weird name."

* * *

 **Author's note:**

So many happenings in this chapter amirite? Figured it would interesting to level up the drama a little bit. University's starting again next week but I'll update at least once a week! I have so many plans for this story and I am really itching to write and finish this.

What do you think of this chapter? Let me know and drop a review! A favourite and follow is nice and all, but reviews give me power to write!

See you next time!


	5. The Fragility of Peace

If it's one thing Naomi is accustomed to, it's dealing with hangovers.

Which explains why she's up at 6:00 in the morning, deftly slicing carrots, spring onions and garlic into tiny pieces as water bubbled and boiled in the steel pot on the stove.

" _My head goddamn hurts."_

Uncle Ichijou groans as he slumps against the kitchen counter from across Naomi's working space, a cool pack steadily pressed to his temple to alleviate the pounding in his head.

"You reap what you sow," Naomi remarks, sparing a glance at the older man, resigned expression plastered on her face, before she reaches for two cubes of chicken broth. "That's what you get for drinking too much, Uncle."

"Geez, don't say it that way, Naomi." Uncle Ichijou retorts back, momentarily drawing the ice pack away from his forehead as he directed a sheepish expression towards his niece. "I didn't even drink that much, you know?"

"All the more reason why you shouldn't had overdone it." Naomi replies back smoothly, removing the lid of the boiling pot before ladling in the chicken broth cubes, mixing them well with a pair of chopsticks so that they dissolved faster. Once done, she places the lid back and reaches for the fridge for the Tupperware containing last night's leftover dumplings. "You know full well that you're a lightweight, so why push yourself to drink more than you can handle, Uncle?"

" _Iyaa,_ well it's been a long time since I've seen my buddies," Uncle Ichijou flinches in his seat, Naomi's comment hitting the bull's eye. He laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head in an attempt to ease the tension. "I might have really overdone it, eh?"

"You did." Naomi replies back, returning to the boiling soup in the pot and dunking several pieces of dumplings in the broth. She swirls the mixture a few times with the wooden ladle, before she adds the cubed carrots and spring onions. She returns her gaze to the older man, a stern expression gracing her features. "Geez, Uncle. You're getting older now, please do watch over your own health."

Uncle Ichijou lets out a forced chuckle at that, making Naomi eventually sigh before she returns to the fridge, pulls out a pitcher of barley tea and a drinking glass, setting it in front of her uncle.

"For starters, just drink this tea while the soup's still cooking." She prompts, turning her back from the older man to return to her soup. The scent of spices and meat quickly filled the room as soon as she lifted the lid, making her hum in approval. "A little while longer and it'll be done."

" _Maa,_ I can't wait." Uncle Ichijou immediately perks up, an eager smile on his face as his gaze shifts to the pot of boiling hangover soup. "Your hangover soup really does wonders, after all, Naomi."

"Uncle, flattery will get you nowhere," Naomi remarks, a small teasing smile tilting the corners of her lips upwards. "You need to do better if you want to make up to me waking up at this hour."

"I got it, I got it." Uncle Ichijou retorts back, a huge grin on his face as he chuckles. "I'll make you your favourites for this week then, deal?"

Naomi's eyes glimmer in anticipation at her Uncle's promise, her mind rattling off all her favourite meals. A grin surfaces on her face.

"You better keep your word, Uncle, " She exclaims. "No take backs!"

At her reaction, Uncle Ichijou bursts out into a hearty laugh.

"You really don't refuse when it comes to food eh, Naomi?" He quips, his face mirroring the exact same eager grin the younger girl had on her face. "So unlike Ayane, who's more concerned of calorie counts and her dieting, geez!"

" _Papaaaa!"_

"Oh speak of the devil."

Uncle Ichijou draws his attention away from her, this time focusing on Ayane's figure. The blonde girl had entered from the back door, and she was still dressed in her clothes from yesterday: a pink halter top, white slacks, and a navy blue blazer that was currently folded and hanging across her arms. She had forsaken her 5-inch nude stilettos, the shoes hanging off her other free hand.

Swiping her blonde hair back to tame the unruly curls, Ayane huffs.

"Welcome back," Uncle Ichijou addresses his daughter, moving over in his seat so she could take her place beside him. "You had to stay overnight at the office again?"

"Yes, and it was absolutely dreadful," Ayane bemoans, leaving her bag and jacket on one of the vacant seats as she settles to the stool next to her father. "Imagine? We struggled to finalize the presentation slides for ReLive beauty campaign pitching tomorrow. God, I feel my brain cells dying-"

Her sentence is cut off when Naomi suddenly appears, placing two bowls of the steaming hot soup in front of her uncle and her cousin. Uncle Ichijou coos in happiness at the sight of food, while Ayane stiffens in her seat, her eyes avoiding eye contact with Naomi at all costs.

 _Ah, okay,_ Naomi mulls in her head. _Still upset with me, I guess._

Uncle Ichijou had begun relishing in his portions with earnest, slurping down spoonfuls of soup while occasionally taking bites from the dumplings. Halfway in his meal, he notices Ayane sitting motionless, while Naomi goes back to the stove and stirring her soup.

"What's up with you two?" He finally asks, halting his progress with the meal and placing his spoon back on the bowl. "You're unusually quiet today? Normally you two would be chatty—"

" _Ugh, it's Nacchan's fault!"_

Ayane cuts her father's statement first, breaking the tranquil quiet of the early morning as she raises her voice. Naomi flinches at her volume, turning cautiously to face Ayane who was directing her with a full force glare.

"Wait, what?" Uncle Ichijou asks, confused and bewildered at this awkward situation. "What did Naomi do?"

"She says she doesn't want to be here anymore!" Ayane retorts back, a pout curling on her lips. "She wants to move out soon."

"Really? This is the first I'm hearing of it," Uncle Ichijou retorts, his gaze now directing back to Naomi. "Is that true, Naomi?"

"That's true, but honestly!" Naomi finally snaps, halting her stirring and raising the ladle to point at Ayane. "Aren't you overreacting a bit, Acchan?"

"Overreacting?" Ayane retorts back, disbelief in her expression. "I'm overreacting?!"

"Yes, overreacting!" Naomi quips back, an expression of defiance on her face. "And horribly so!"

Ayane goes still at the sudden raise in Naomi's voice. She lets out an _hmph!_ under her breath, tearing her gaze away from Naomi's. To the side, Uncle Ichijou sweats profusely.

"Girls," The older male begins uneasily, treading the waters cautiously. "Care to tell me everything? And what's this about leaving, Naomi?"

"Uh," Shuffling awkwardly from toe to toe, Naomi directs her eyesight to the floor. "I've decided to move, Uncle."

"I managed to save enough money for an apartment unit in Kamino Ward," The dark-haired girl continues. "I really wanted to bring it up with you guys earlier, but one thing lead to another, and then there was the incident from last time where I got hospitalized…"

"Oh, I see." Uncle Ichijou voices out after Naomi finishes her explanation. This time he turns to his daughter who was still sulking in her seat. "And why are you so upset, Ayane?"

"Well, that's because!" She begins, her gaze directing to Naomi momentarily before she turns back to her father. "That's because I don't see why Nacchan has to leave! We clearly don't mind having her here! She's a part of the family now!"

"So that's why you're so upset." Uncle Ichijou interrupts, sighing as he finally pieces the whole picture together.

"Naomi," The older man calls the attention of his niece, the latter finally raising her head to meet his gaze. "Do you really want to leave?"

"Yes," Naomi replies, her voice rising in volume and her gaze determined. "I know that you have raised me willingly for all these past years, but I can't possibly rely on both of you forever."

Silence rings momentarily in the kitchen. It takes a moment before Uncle Ichijou opens his mouth to speak again.

"Naomi, I promised your mother and father that I will protect you at all costs," Uncle Ichijou begins, his look softening slightly. "For all these years, we've raised you as if you were our own child and we never considered you as a burden to this family."

Beside him, Ayane clenches her fists.

"But," He continues, a smile lighting up his features as he fixes his gaze towards the dark-haired girl. "If you wish to be independent, then I respect that. You can go wherever you please."

"Papa!" Ayane gasps, her body flinching in surprise at her father's words. "What—"

"We share the same stubborn streak, my daughter and I." Uncle Ichijou gently interrupts, his hands reaching for his daughter's and squeezing soothingly. "Well to be honest, I really wouldn't want you to leave either, Naomi."

"But I see." He continues, a sombre smile on his face. "It's time for you to leave the nest."

"Uncle…" Naomi begins, her voice laced with surprise at this unexpected development of events. Her smile works its way back on her face. "Thank you…Thank you for understanding."

"Acchan," Naomi steps closer to the kitchen counter, taking her cousin's hands and squeezing them reassuringly. Ayane looks up to her, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'll still visit you guys when I'm gone. And I won't be even moving out for a while, you know?"

"But, but! I haven't even made it up to you for all the trouble I caused!" Ayane bawls out, squeezing Naomi's hands back. "You always cleaned up after my messes, encouraged me when I was down and helped me deal with pressure…!"

"Silly Acchan. Stop talking as if I'm going to die or something!" Naomi laughs, drawing Ayane close to a hug. "I'll still visit from time to time! You still have plenty of chances to make it up to me, you know!"

Ayane clutches the front of Naomi's shirt as she continues to bawl her eyes out. Uncle Ichijou sits by the side, absent-mindedly wiping the corners of his eyes.

"Come on, wipe those tears away." Naomi counters, breaking free from the hug and playfully ruffling Ayane's hair. "Uncle, you too."

"Geez you two, I'll still be coming back here from time to time!" Naomi reassures both father and daughter. "I mean, I wouldn't trade the best ramen in the world for anything else!"

Ayane settles down, her sobs quieting to sniffles while Uncle clears his throat. A relaxed smile finally rests on Naomi's face.

"Shall we eat then? The soup's going to get cold."

* * *

"Well? Have you got any new intel from the yakuza?"

Shigaraki Tomura impatiently drums his fingers on the wooden surface of the counter. Next to him, Giran was lighting a cigarette with his Zippo lighter. The older man takes a drag from the end of the stick, before exhaling it in wisps of grey smoke.

"I'm afraid it'll be nothing of your interest," Giran replies, his fingers reaching for the mug of coffee Kurogiri had placed on the counter. The man swirls the dark liquid inside the cup momentarily before taking a sip and grimacing. _Coffee's gone cold._

"Tell me anyway," Shigaraki growls, his hands coming up to his neck to scratch the drying skin. "What you've got from the _yakuza?"_

"Like I said, nothing much." Giran replies, taking another hit from his cigarette. He leans his cheek against his palm, before he closes his eyes. "Apparently, Seiryuu-kai has been active recently."

 _Seiryuu-kai._ Shigaraki stills the scratching on his neck. _Where has he heard that word before?_

"Remember the Blue Haze incident that happened recently?" Giran continues, oblivious to the blue-haired guy's stillness. "Apparently some bloke had torched several of their men, so they're on a revenge mission to avenge their fallen comrades."

 _Dabi's work,_ Shigaraki notes, clicking his tongue in annoyance at a new nuisance that surfaced. _Damn it all._

"That's about all I have on my end," Giran comments, blinking his eyes open as he stubs the remaining flames of his cigarette into the ashtray Kurogiri had provided. "I told you it would be none of your interest."

"It appears." Shigaraki mutters, returning to drumming his fingers on the table. "Anything else you might want to add?"

"The Eight Precepts are rumoured to be working on a new drug." Giran replies, sticking a new stick of cigarette between his lips.

"Hoh?" Shigaraki raises an eyebrow at this new information. That goddamn plague mask leader had failed to mention this during their deals. "What kind of drug is it?"

"I couldn't confirm much details," Giran replies, rising from his seat and reaching for a 500-yen coin from his pockets. "But my intel says it's powerful enough to render Quirk-users useless."

"That's all I have on my end." The older man continues, placing the coin on the wooden surface and turning his back to head towards the exit. "Thanks for the awful coffee."

As Giran's figure disappears from his sight, Shigaraki ceases drumming his fingers on the wooden surface of the counter. Kurogiri lifts his gaze from polishing the glasses.

"A drug to render Quirk-users useless, huh?" Shigaraki mutters to himself, a dark grin curling on the edges of his lips.

"What are you planning to do, Shigaraki Tomura?" The wraith asks, returning to his task at hand. The other man simply smirks.

"Attain that drug at all costs, of course." He replies, chuckling darkly. "If we get our hands on that drug, this will entirely change the course of the game."

"Oi, Kurogiri," Shigaraki calls the attention of the wraith once again. "Where the hell is Dabi? I need to talk to him."

"I'm afraid that he hasn't come back from the time he left earlier this morning," Kurogiri answers. "He went out for some ramen, last time I recall."

"Ramen? Again?" Shigaraki breathes out, irritation lacing his voice. "How much does that fool love ramen? How many days does this make?"

* * *

"Carrots, pork meat, konbu, eggs, ramen noodles, nori wrapper, spring onions…"

As she traverses the road back home from the supermarket, Naomi paws inside the grocery bags she hefted in her two hands. Jun-nii and Uncle Ichijou had her do a quick supermarket run, having running out of ingredients at the last minute, not expecting the full-attack of a group of foreign students to hold their freshmen party at their ramen shop.

"Three bottles of shochu, a bottle of sake, and five cans of beer." Naomi finishes the list, satisfied that she had successfully procured what was needed. "Good lord, this is a lot of alcohol."

She readjusts her grip on the plastic bags, grimacing a bit when the one that carried the bunch of alcoholic drinks significantly weighed more than the bag carrying the ingredients for the meals. She was really regretting her decision on not driving her with the motorcycle.

"Can't be helped then," Naomi mutters under her breath, heaving the plastic bags with her strength as she rounded the intersection heading to the suburbs.

The night was in full swing that night, a rare occurrence in the neighbourhood. The small street she was currently passing by was host to a small shopping district and farmer's market. Naomi's eyes spot a _taiyaki_ stand still open, and she all too eagerly jogs towards it, buying two pieces of the cream-filled pastry.

"Ah, this is bad." She shoves the pastry inside the plastic bag for ingredients, just as she glances at the time on her wristwatch. "I've been gone for too long."

Soon, she picks up her pace, her leisurely walk turning into brisk jogging. Puffs of breath escape from her lips as she ran, and she inwardly shivers at the cool contact of the night breeze upon her skin.

Naomi spots the old children's park just as she rounds the intersection of the street, and she crosses the playground to emerge to the other side of the street, a small shortcut most folk had been using.

Soon, she makes her way out of the clearing and into the familiar streetlight-lit streets of the road going to _Menya Hayase._ Naomi exhales, taking calming breaths to recover from her speed-walking.

She momentarily places her groceries on the ground, stretching her arms upward, a relieved _Aah!_ escaping her lips as she tries to alleviate the soreness of her arms.

"Yo, out doing errands, Delivery Girl?"

Naomi halts in her stretches as she hears a familiar voice from behind. She tilts her head, and sure enough, he was there.

"Dabi," She begins hastily, letting her arms rest to her sides as she regarded the patchwork man cautiously.

"Oh, so you remembered my name." Dabi replies back, shoving his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans as he stops in front of her. Naomi raises an eyebrow, letting her arms cross across her chest.

"Well, it was a weird name," Naomi replies back honestly, her grey eyes seeking out his own sea-green ones as she looks up to his face. "And with your appearance, you quite make an impression on people."

 _Although not good ones,_ She adds as an afterthought to herself.

At her explanation, Dabi blinks in surprise, but suddenly chuckles a bit. "My, thank you for your honesty."

"It's one of my appealing points." Naomi replies back, a small smile quirking on the corners of her lips. "Though not everyone quite appreciates that."

"So what brings you out here at this time?" Dabi asks, his gaze drifting to the bags lying at Naomi's feet and finally piecing things together. "Grocery shopping? Man, they sure know how to work you to the bone, Delivery Girl."

"Sadly, that's the likely scenario if a shop's short-staffed," Naomi replies back, her arms reaching downwards to gather the plastic bags again. "Are you heading to _Menya Hayase,_ too?"

"If it isn't obvious," Dabi quips back, "I'm in the mood for some ramen."

"How much do you love eating ramen anyway?" Naomi asks under her breath, tone incredulous as she heaves the plastic bags in both of her hands. She begins to walk and soon, Dabi follows behind her in an easy gait.

For a while, the walk was silent, until an idea clicks in Naomi's head. Staring at the groceries in her hands, she spares a glance at Dabi who returns her gaze with a bored look.

"What?" He asks, stalling in his tracks as Naomi approaches him with a small grin on her face.

" _Ne,_ since we're heading to the same place anyways," Naomi begins in earnest, lifting the heavier bag containing the alcohol, "Mind helping me out with these? These are pretty heavy."

"If I do help you out, do I get a free meal?" Dabi replies, a small smirk curling at his lips.

"No, but the drinks are on me." Naomi prompts, raising a bottle of shochu to emphasize her point.

A small flicker of amusement sparks in Dabi's eyes.

"Okay," He acquiesces, his hands reaching for the plastic bag that contained the alcohol. "You've got yourself a deal, Delivery Girl."

* * *

When the two finally reach _Menya Hayase,_ Naomi flinches slightly from the raucous laughter and loud chatter coming from the dining area. Dabi shuffles behind her, waiting for her next move.

"Ah, I think it might be a little too crowded here," Naomi prompts, making the dark-haired male turn to her in curiosity. "Let's just use the back door."

"Oi, oi, are you sure you should be showing me all the secret spots in your house?" Dabi taunts, a grin on his lips as he followed behind her. "I might get the idea of breaking into your home, you know."

"Yeah, sure, break in if you want," Naomi replies back easily, her fingers reaching for the doorknob and twisting it open. "All you'd be getting are kitchen utensils and food, anyhow."

"You have a point."

Naomi snorts at this before she finally opens the door, revealing a busy kitchen with Jun-nii and Uncle Ichijou heating up food and doing prep work.

"Uncle, Jun-nii, I bought what you asked me to buy!" Naomi raises her voice, calling the attention of the two older men. "Sorry I was back so late, though."

"No worries, Nao, it's okay." Jun-nii walks over and reaches for the bag carrying the ingredients. He momentarily raises his gaze and blinks at the person behind Naomi. "And who might this be?"

"Ah, oh! Him!" Naomi prompts back, glancing back to see Dabi frowning openly at her. "He's a customer. He helped me with the groceries."

"Oh, is that so?" Jun-nii replies, his voice laced with suspicion at the odd appearance of Naomi's guest. "Well, I'm afraid it's full house for the moment so I suggest—"

"That's no problem, we could just use the veranda upstairs." Naomi replies quickly. Jun-nii blinks in surprise, wavering slightly.

"But you'll have to ask permission from your Uncle—"

" _Aiyah,_ Jun! What the hell is the hold-up for?" Uncle Ichijou hollers from the kitchen. "If the ingredients are here then get your ass back here! We have customers to serve!"

Jun-nii barks back an _Osu!_ and promptly goes back to work, making Naomi exhale a relieved sigh.

"You know, I don't think he trusts me," Dabi opens up, his voice laced with irritation. "Not that it's something new to me, though."

"That's just how he is with new people." Naomi replies back, moving away from the kitchen and into the stairwell leading to the second floor. She glances over her shoulder, gesturing for the scarred man to follow her. "Well, come on up. We haven't got all night."

"Are you taking me to your room?" Dabi teases, a smirk on his face as he followed her footsteps going to the second floor. "How very forward of you."

"Wh—" Naomi stops, her cheeks coloring once she reaches the top floor. She throws a glare at his direction. "Get your mind out of the gutter, you perv."

"Hey, I didn't say anything~" Dabi croons, revelling in how she reacted to his teasing. "You're the one who assumed. Who's the perv now?"

"Ugh, shut up," Naomi mutters under her breath. She could hear a low chuckle from behind her but paid it no heed as she walks towards the doors to the veranda, sliding it open and leading him to her rooftop garden.

"Sit anywhere you like," Naomi waves around, before disappearing momentarily down the hallway. "I'll get some food and the drinks."

* * *

In all fairness, the girl wasn't getting on his nerves. Yet.

Dabi sighs as he spots a table and chairs near the trellis, and settled in one of the rattan furniture, making himself comfortable.

Surveying his surroundings, he finds out that he was in a rooftop garden. Various ornamental foliage and hanging plants were seen from all directions, making him strangely feel tranquil and at ease.

 _A moment of peace, huh_ , he mulls in his head, his sea-green eyes looking distant at the overnight scenery of the Tokyo nightscape. _How unusual for the kind of lifestyle I lead._

The door to the veranda slides open once more, and he shifts his gaze, seeing the girl come back with a tray of food and drinks. She wobbled cautiously to his direction, and when she finally reaches the table, she lays out what she brought on the surface.

A quick survey of the meals made him identify it as two bowls of ramen and a few pieces of tempura. The bottle of shochu was placed in the center, and the girl laid out two glasses in front of them.

"This is all I could manage to smuggle from the kitchen," She prompts as she sits across him. "Everyone's too busy to whip up something more complicated."

"This is fine by me." Dabi replies, picking up the pair of chopsticks. "Food is still food."

"If you say so," The girl replies, picking up her own pair of chopsticks too. "Well then, _itadakimasu!"_

He follows after her, murmuring it quietly under his breath before he partakes in the meal. The ramen was _shio,_ the taste light but flavourful enough for his taste. The noodles were boiled to his preferred texture, and the cuts of meat and egg were in generous portions too.

Lifting his gaze from his own bowl, he spares a glance at the girl. She had tied her long hair back, and she was blowing on her own soup to cool down the warmth. She eats rather delicately, sipping a few spoonfuls, before she picks a piece of meat and bites down gently.

As she swallows the first piece, she catches him staring.

"What," She begins. "Are you still doubting that it's poisoned?"

"Could be," Dabi taunts, a small smirk curling on his lips as he watches her roll her eyes. "How do I know this isn't some ploy of yours to secretly finish me off in secret here?"

"Do I look capable of doing that on my own?" The girl asks, this time reaching for a piece of tempura. "Like I have that sort of free time."

"Who knows? Maybe you're in cahoots with the two old men downstairs for all I care." Dabi replies, reaching into his bowl to pick up a piece of egg.

"Are you always like this with all the women you talk with?" She mutters out, an exasperated tone lacing her statement. "Quite a charmer you are."

"Well, you never know," Dabi replies, finally placing the piece of egg inside his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. He swallows the food down before continuing the rest of the statement, "Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah, right." The girl replies again, digging in back into her meal. "Well, don't blame me if I finish all of the tempura."

* * *

Contrary to his initial suspicions, Dabi had cleaned off his own share of the meal.

Naomi sighs, leaning back against the chair as she reaches for the bottle of shochu. Removing the lid successfully, she pours the alcohol into the two glasses and reaching the other to the patchwork man.

"Here, I fulfilled my end of the deal." Naomi declares, raising her own glass up. "Drinks are on me."

"And so it seems, Delivery Girl." Dabi replies, taking his own glass and tipping back the alcoholic drink down his throat. "You sure kept your promise."

 _Delivery Girl._ Naomi's eyes narrowed at that. He's been calling her that nonstop ever since their encounter at his apartment. Tipping her head back, she downs the alcoholic drink in one go, revelling in how the drink goes smoothly down her throat.

"Hoh, so you do know how to drink." Dabi observes, his hands reaching for the bottle, starting on his second glass. "Not bad, Delivery Girl."

"I have a name you know," Naomi spats back out, fed up with having to be addressed with Delivery Girl.

"You never told me." Dabi replies back, prompting a tick mark to appear at Naomi's forehead. She sighs harshly, reaching for the bottle for her second glass.

"It's Takano." She swirls the liquid around for a moment, before taking a dainty sip. "Takano Naomi."

"Hmm, okay." Dabi replies, taking another swig from the glass. " _Jaa,_ I'll call you Nao then."

She almost spits out the drink she was currently chugging.

" _Nao?"_ Naomi echoes back, her tone in disbelief. "What?"

"It's either Nao or Delivery Girl," Dabi replies back, taking another swig from his glass. "Which do you prefer?"

"Just…" Naomi stalls before she finally gives up. "Okay. Nao it is."

Dabi doesn't say something and instead gives her a subtle smirk in reply. He turns his gaze to the nightscape, and she finds herself unwillingly staring at his profile.

 _Where did he ever get those scars?_ She wonders to herself, _They look…painful._

"I know you're staring." He echoes, making Naomi sputter in alarm. "Something on your mind?"

"I, uh…" Naomi starts, her mouth gaping open like a fish. "Uh, never mind."

"Is that so," Dabi drawls, finally pushing the back of his chair and standing up to head towards the door. Naomi places her glass back on the table, her gaze following his figure.

"You're going already?" She mutters. Dabi glances at her over her shoulder.

"I've got somewhere to be," He reasons out, before shoving his hands back into his pockets again. "Couldn't stay here long."

"Thanks for the food, Nao." He quips, raising a hand as he began to head to the stairs. Once his footsteps could no longer be heard from his descent downstairs, Naomi allows a small smile to curl on the corners of her lips.

* * *

The man dreams of hellfire.

 _It burns!_

He stares in horror, as blazing blue fire began to spread in his surroundings. The flames begin to lick at his feet, slowly making their way upwards to ignite his body.

 _It burns! It burns! It burns!_

Heat permeates his body—from his skin down to his bones, they blazed in earnest, eager to eat him up alive as he writhed in agony.

 _Blue flame! It burns! It burns! It burns!_

"It burns!"

He wakes up screaming. Once he opens his eyes, he discovers an unfamiliar ceiling, and an unfamiliar face belonging to an elderly man staring down at him.

"Hoho, finally awake, eh?" The man says, drawing some distance between the two of them. "You must have the devil's luck, being able to survive being burned alive."

The man looks at his body, eyes widening as his skin, once in a pale complexion, turn into dark ugly blotches.

"Some passerby decided to drop you off here," The other man, decked in a white coat answers as he comes back to the bedside once again. "Good instincts, that man, dropping the likes of you in my care. Not much hospitals are willing to take someone of your kind, you know?"

"Where…" The man begins, alerting the doctor's presence to him. "Where…am I?"

"You're at my clinic," The doctor begins. "I go by Liu. I'm a back alley doctor."

"How…" The man begins to say, but the doctor places a reassuring hand on his shoulders.

"Maa, it won't do you good to speak so much, young man." The doctor begins as he hands over a glass of water with a drinking straw to the patient. "Here. For the meantime, drink."

With shaky hands, the man reaches for the glass, and begins to drink in earnest. The doctor tends back to his medical files, failing to notice the faded image of a cerulean dragon tattoo blazed on the man's forearm. Above the image of the dragon, Chinese characters stood out in all familiarity.

 _Seiryuu-kai._

* * *

Author's Note:

Hi everyone! I know it's been a while since I last updated and I truly apologize for that. It's my last year in uni right now, and all my major subjects are throwing out heavy projects even though it's still the first month. The workload is killing me, but I'm trying my best to update this story.

Anyway, I am so grateful for all the wonderful reviews, favourites and follow you left! My apologies if I can't reply to your reviews on time, but please be assured that I read all your heartfelt thoughts and messages and that means a lot to me.

Again, please leave a review on what you think of this chapter and see you next time!


	6. Hiss and Crackle

" _Are you going away again?"_

 _The woman pauses in packing her suitcase, her gaze turning to the little girl who stood by the doorway. She could be no more than 7 years old, dressed in mint-green pajamas and cradling a frog plush. From the looks of it, she had waddled from her room, roused awake by the sound of her packing._

 _The older woman goes away from her suitcase, steps towards the little girl and kneels to her level. Smiling, she picks the child up and holds her close._

" _Yes, but mama and papa will be back before you know it!" She reassures the little one in her arms, her hands gently brushing away the dark hair away from the child's face. Sleepy grey eyes—eyes she inherited from her father—blinked back at her mother, but she held up her pinkie finger to her mom's face._

" _Promise?" The child asks, and for a moment, a sliver of uncertainty flashed in her mother's gaze, but as quickly as it came, it vanished. The older woman plasters a cheerful smile on her face, before she raises her own pinkie finger and hooks it around her daughter's._

" _Pinkie promise!" She says and presses a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead and exiting the room with her daughter in her arms. "Now off to bed you go."_

 _As both mother and daughter trekked the hallway back to the little one's room, a man meets them halfway through. He glances at his wife, then to their daughter in her arms._

" _Megumi, let me." He offers, moving close so the woman—Megumi—could give him the sleeping child. She does so, and follows her husband as he carries the sleeping girl back inside her own room. He sets the child gently on the bed and with gentle care, he places a blanket atop her small figure and tucks her to sleep._

 _For a moment they watched the child slumber._

" _Shigeru, I'm afraid." Megumi reaches out for her husband's arm, gripping it tightly as her eyes train on the gentle rise and fall of their daughter's chest. "I can't leave Naomi alone…what if…what if the mission…fails?"_

" _Megumi, she will be safe with Ichijou and his wife," Shigeru prompts, turning his body so he could hold his wife close to an embrace. "What we are about to do is to ensure not only her safety, but for her future as well."_

 _He pulls back, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that began to spill from his wife's face. Shigeru's gaze drifts to the jagged scar running down the right side of her face, a scar she had willingly shouldered for his sake._

" _We have to come back," Megumi replies, her grip tightening against the fabric of her husband's shirt. "We have to come back for Naomi."_

" _We will," Shigeru replies, drawing her close to his chest once again. "Definitely."_

* * *

The blank ceiling stares at her as Naomi wakes.

Naomi blinks, her eyes adjusting to the dimness of her room before forcing herself up into a sitting position and survey her surroundings.

 _Oh yeah that's right,_ Naomi thought to herself, _I finally moved out yesterday._

Gone were Ayane's closet full of her clothes, her dresser with her skincare routine and the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered to the ceiling. Instead, a barely made-up room stared back at Naomi: her work desk placed against the wall next to her bed, her wardrobe closet and several unopened boxes of items she hadn't unpacked yet.

Naomi lingers on the mattress of her bed for another moment, before she finally works up the courage to get off. Making her way to the sliding door that opens to her balcony, she draws it open, greeted by the blare of the early morning sun. Stepping outside, she pads over to the balcony in her bare feet, inhaling the scent of the morning air as her eyes glimpsed the flurry of the city's morning rush: students in high school uniforms walking in brisk paces, adults in crisp working suits, an old lady on a walk with her dog and a few construction workers on their bicycles.

An early breeze sweeps through the surroundings, giving her hair a not-so-gentle tousle, moving wayward strands towards the inside of her mouth. Naomi spats them out and pushes them behind their ear, disgusted by her lack of elegance. Once she recovers, she turns her gaze back to the city, a wistful smile on her face.

The first order of business for her today was to unpack and unsort the rest of her stuff.

Naomi stands in the center of what she decided to be her living room, hands cocked in her hips as she surveys the interior of the place. Uncle Ichijou, Jun-nii and Ayane had helped her move in yesterday, but they only managed to get her heavy furniture set up upon Naomi's insistence. If she didn't impose that she only needed help with the heavy-lifting, they would go overboard and redecorate the whole place for her.

So far, she had a sofa and a low-rise coffee table, items she both remodelled and repaired by hand prior to her move. The sofa was a cream color, and the table carved out of mahogany-furniture items once owned by her parents. Placed against the wall were two empty bookcases, their contents yet to be unpacked from the boxes.

The space was divided by her kitchen counter, the space devoid of stuff except for her trays and plates stacked neatly on top of each other while her eating and cooking utensils were stored in boxes on top of the countertop. There was also a sink, her cooking stove, rice cooker, microwave oven and her fridge, while overhead cupboards and cabinets housed her condiments and cleaning supplies respectively.

All in all, it was a decent apartment-not too big, not too small-just enough for someone who has started living on her own. Ayane had helped her get a unit here in Kamino ward-working in advertising makes her connected to all sorts of people-and it comes with a reasonably priced rent, too. A good investment, even for Naomi's terms.

Exhaling softly, Naomi plops herself down to the floor, cutter in hand as she draws the first box towards her.

 _Well then, Nao,_ she mutters to herself, _time to put your life back in order again._

* * *

It was already night out when he got out of the meeting with the League.

Dabi murmurs a curse under his breath as he walked out of the bar, hand messing with his hair in frustration. The discussion didn't end well—Shigaraki had set-up a meeting with the Precepts and the latter had offered to help in their crusade, over the expense of taking some of the League members as part of the operations. A begrudging deal Shigaraki was forced to accept as one of their members went out of commission. As a result, Dabi had to deal with all the tongue-lashing Shigaraki hurled at him.

Hell, he had almost considered burning the place down to a crisp, but Kurogiri—ever the pacifist—stepped into their petty squabble before Dabi had even moved to activate his flames.

 _At least the Crazy JK Girl is gone with them,_ Dabi mulls to himself as he weaves his way through the back alleys leading to his own hide-out, _and I'll be free from Twice's incessant yelling, too._

He releases a silent huff, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tattered jeans as he speeds up his walking. Kamino Ward had particularly been on high alert ever since the aftermath of All Might's fall and annoyingly, cops had doubled their efforts to patrol the pace. Just as he rounds the corner, Dabi spots a uniformed officer making his way towards him. Cautiously, Dabi maneuvers and ducks into a street alley—a small part of his route that the damn cops didn't manage to trace yet—and trudges on forward.

Passing this way, he emerges out into a busy food district, his eyes catching sight of a dimly-lit _izakaya_ pub to his right and beside it, a _ramen_ stall where it was flocked to by tourists and wayward salarymen. The sight of ramen makes him remember the subtle taste of that girl's own _shio_ ramen, and his mind unearths memories of a quiet night on top of an outdoor terrace.

It had been a month since that moment of peace. Dabi quickly darts to another alley by the corner as a police patrol car passes by. Leaning his head against the wall, he lifts his gaze to the night time sky.

 _What was her name again? Rio? Mio?_ Dabi muses, faintly remembering the grey glint of her eyes and her dark hair. _Ah, Nao._

He scoffs once he remembered her name: a skittish, wide-eyed Quirkless girl who maybe shared a few bowls of ramen with him, and so what? Merely an insignificant little girl who was maybe a bit smart because she could sense that he was a dangerous person. Hell, he was even surprised that she hadn't reported him at this rate.

 _I've never been back to her place for a month now,_ He mulls, lifting his body off the wall to resume his pace going towards home. _Bet she's probably thankful for it, huh._

Shaking his head to rid the memory of the girl, he resumes his steady pace, only to pause for a moment, his senses on high alert as movement rustles behind his back. He drops his hand, fingers slowly igniting a small amount of blue flame.

Someone was here besides him.

"If you show yourself instead of hiding around, we could wrap this up nicely," He calls out, his voice cold and calm as he remained with his back to the enemy. "Maybe I'll even let you off once you stop following me around like a rat."

More movement rustles and this time, Dabi pivots quickly, arms raised out with a flame just as a steel pipe appears out of air. One Dabi caught with his palm and immediately igniting a blast of blue flame at his assailant.

"You really think you could get me in with this flimsy piece of shit?" Dabi intones out lazily, and with a flick of his fingers, reignited his flames with more force, beginning to melt the metal in his assailant's hands. Without a word, his assailant jumps back, letting go of the pipe, which clatters to the street in a clang.

Under the dim lights, Dabi surveys his attacker. A towering height with built to match—maybe the brawling type, _god he hates dealing with those types,_ with a Heteromorphic Quirk and super strength to go along with it. Dressed in dark clothes with a hood obscuring their face, Dabi squares his own posture, hands igniting once more with blue flame.

"You've got balls trying to get the best of me with nothing but a steel pipe and dark clothes," Dabi drawls out, "What, you some sort of vigilante or something?"

His assailant doesn't say a word, but without warning, launches at him straight with fluid grace. Dabi blasts blue fire towards the attacker, forming a solid wale of hellfire between the two of them. For a while no one breaches through, making Dabi scoff a bit at the short-lived battle, but to his surprise, the assailant re-emerges from his wall of fire, their hands now brandishing two short swords.

Fire-resistant gear. _The bastard was equipped with fire resistant gear._

Dabi bit back a curse as he dodges out of the way, one short sword mere inches from sinking itself on his side. The assailant doesn't seem to pause in their attacks, pivoting once more and moving to strike back at Dabi.

Close-range combat was Dabi's weakness. He may have survived a few street brawls here and there but most of the time he had relied on his Quirk in tougher fights. Now, he cursed himself for not picking up a few moves the last time Kurogiri offered.

 _But who the hell was this guy?_ He muttered, dodging attacks as best as he could. His attacker moved with a deadly grace, their short swords aiming at his vital points with frightening aim. From the looks of it, they were equipped with gear best suited for attacking Fire-types like him, and the fire-resistant gear they were wearing seemed to be an innovation—with materials made to survive high temperatures as well.

In the midst of analysing his enemy, Dabi falters, an opening the assailant didn't pass up. They moved to stab him in the arm, but at the last second, Dabi avoids it, the blade only leaving a graze on his skin. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.

With a hiss, Dabi spins around, aiming a kick to his assailant's gut, sending them toppling backwards to the ground. Breath heaving, Dabi straightens his posture, flames igniting from his uninjured arm as he marched towards the assailant with renewed purpose.

"Who are you working for?" Dabi growls, irritation rising from his near-brush with death, "Is it the Precepts? Or the goddamned Pros?"

To his credit his assailant didn't flinch, but when they spoke, it came out mockingly.

"Neither, but you've got a score to settle with me." They say, voice coming out marbled and warped all funny, making Dabi realize that they must have been equipped with a voice-changing equipment. "Dabi of the League of Villains."

"Oh yeah? What's there to settle when I'm through with you?" Dabi barks back, a growl rising in his throat. "You can only do nothing when you're a pile of charred bones and ash."

"We'll see about that." To his irritation, the assailant merely chuckled before they rose and pointed at the hollow of Dabi's throat. "I believe I might have won this round."

"The fuck—" Dabi begins but not before a dull throbbing enters his skull. Pitching forward, he slumps against the wall, suddenly feeling numb and can't feel anything. His vision blurs and he reaches out to his throat, cursing all the while.

A tiny dart, miniscule enough, had buried itself in the skin of just below his collarbone. Not just any ordinary dart—dart tipped with a numbing agent to render him unconscious. The bastard must have shot it at the moment Dabi's knee connected with their stomach.

"Son of a bi—" Dabi didn't manage to finish his curse, before his vision dimmed. Faint ringing in his ears pounded and all he could hear before he could black out was a garbled mixture of words from his assailant.

"The blue dragon passes his judgment upon you. Atone for your sins."

* * *

With one of the League's vanguards down, the hooded assailant reaches for the patchwork man's body. Drawing one of their short swords, they aim it against the skin of Dabi's throat, a bit disappointed.

"You know, I was hoping you would be more of a fight," They mutter in that disembodied voice. "But it's better off this way, considering that you didn't give us a fighting chance back when you burned my brothers to death."

With a snarl, the assailant draws his weapon back, preparing to finally put an end to Dabi, when their phone buzzes in their pocket, making them pause in their movements. An irritated snarl escapes their throat but they relax, sheathing the swords back into their scabbards by their sides as a gloved hand retrieves a phone from one of their side pockets. Pressing the gadget to their ears, they hissed out an irritated "What,"

"Blue."

They stilled, immediately recognizing the voice at the other end of the line. "My apologies. I was in the middle of a clean-up."

"No matter then." The voice from the other end of the phone replies, tone dismissive. "We need you back at the base now. Finish your fun, Blue."

"Noted, sir." The assailant—Blue—replies in a clipped tone before they shut off the device and shoved it back to their pockets. Blue takes one last look at the slumped, unconscious body of Dabi against the wall and clicks their tongue.

"You got lucky today, Dabi." Blue snarls. "But the next time won't be as fortunate."

Blue takes one last vengeful glance at the Villain on the street before they disappeared into the night.

* * *

With a victorious exhale, Naomi chugged the last of the energy drink down her throat as she exited the 7-Eleven store she entered earlier.

Her unpacking finally finished way into the night, her things settled up nicely. She didn't even own much in the first place, so Naomi was still delighted with the way things panned out nicely in her apartment.

Unfortunately, she got too engrossed in unpacking and organizing that she missed out on dinner, finding her favourite bento shop by the road already closed for the night. So she had compromised on walking to the nearby 7-Eleven, where she ended up refilling on necessities as well.

She crumples the can in her grip before tossing it to a nearby trash can. Plastic bag filled with food slung on her right wrist, and she stretches her arms upward, ready for the trek home. Naomi hums to herself, momentarily getting distracted by the bright lights and advertisements flashing on the wide-screens of Kamino ward's billboards, but quickly regroups herself when she notices the time.

"Best be off on our merry way home," Naomi mutters to herself, crossing the street intersection to pass by a quiet street where she would take another right to lead her into an alley that would open up to the location of her apartment. A shortcut she discovered earlier.

 _Maybe this is my Quirk after all,_ she jokes to herself. _I'm a pro at finding shortcuts. Not that it would prove anything useful in a head-on Villain clash, sure, but I can always escape._

She shakes her head at the foolish thought. When she walks, a police patrol car passes by her, and Naomi couldn't help but feel shivers down her spine once she rounds the corner in the alleyways. Police patrol cars reminded her of that disastrous day at _Club Narcissus,_ and the traumatic first meeting with—

 _Dabi._

Naomi pauses in her tracks, eyes going wide at what appears to be the familiar figure of the patchwork man—only this time, he wasn't brazenly flinging silent threats at her but rather seemingly knocked out unconscious.

 _What is he doing here,_ Naomi thoughts, panic rising to her throat, _Hell, what even happened to him?_

Just as she was on the way to recover from her, ah, _unpleasant memories_ with him, he shows up again in her life like this. Hell, she was doing fine after one month of not seeing him and fearing for her life!

But still, like the impulsive, entitled idiot that she is, Naomi crouches down, convenience store bag and all, arm reaching out to tap him awake.

"D-dabi," She begins, tapping him softly to alert him awake. "What are you sleeping here for? Cops are going to—"

The wetness on her palms surprised her, and when she draws back, her eyes widened.

 _Blood?_ Naomi now visibly panics, the coppery stench of it filling her nostrils. _Why the hell is he covered in blood?_

Warning bells alarmed in her head. The rational part of her—or what's still left functioning while the other part of her panicked to oblivion—was screaming to leave the man alone, call the cops and just go home to finally sink into her bed and get some well-deserved rest. It was the most sensible thing to do.

But yet, some stupid part of her, the part which also was responsible for her letting him eat with her in her uncle's restaurant, the stupid part where she had decided to share a meal with him, sang out to her. _Help him._

And being the stupid, stubborn idiot that she was, Naomi gave in to the calling of that side.

With a groan, she reaches out to the unconscious Dabi, her arms pulling underneath his armpits, with her heaving and half-dragging him across the ground towards her apartment. Uttering a silent prayer under her breath, Naomi hopes that he would be in a better mood when he finally wakes up.

 _Oh god,_ she mutters. _I do hope he won't burn me when he wakes up._

* * *

Author's note:

I am back! Did anyone miss me? *cricket sounds* OKAY NO THEN.

Well, it's certainly been a while everyone. This story has been gone and un-updated since my last, uh, "hiatus", which was pretty much months ago. First and foremost, I want to apologize for that because school and other responsibilities from real life has hindered me from writing (until now, actually). I AM still working on this story, FYI, but it'll be probably another while for the next update as I am busy with MORE school stuff. Your girl here is on her last year of university so that means more stuff to do, oof.

Secondly, I admit, I've been out of touch with the recent updates on Boku no Hero Academia series as I've been, ah, _dragged_ into a new fandom (Where my Hypnosis Mic homies at?!) and needless to say I've been trapped into an endless hell with my beloved anime rap bois.

Third, real life happenings and all got in the way. I've been to Japan last October 2018 and it was the most amazing experience of my life. I stayed there for 10 days on an exchange trip and it was very eventful as I got to explore and experience Japanese culture where we managed to stay with our host family and all. I even went to Harajuku and Shibuya and well, banked a lot on anime merch and magazine, you get the gist. Gosh, I miss Japan.

ANYWAY! Thank you so much for supporting this fanfic even though I've been gone for so long. I've been getting alerts via e-mail on new followers, favorites and reviews and gosh that thing warms me up from the inside. I am really really happy for the support you guys and for the patience you have for me and my un-scheduled updates.

For now, let's say I am back, as I need a distraction from the crazy amount of schoolwork left to do. Please leave a review as always and if you're too shy to tell me, you can slide in and drop me a PM or something. Or even talk to me, idk. I need friends. LOL.

See you next update!

Juri


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